go now, and shall never come back to this unfortunate house.
You hear what I say; I shall never return here. As she makes her bed,
so must she lie on it. It is her own doing, and no one can save her.
For my part, I think that the Jew has bewitched her."

"Like enough," said Lotta.

"When once we stray from the Holy Church, there is no knowing what
terrible evils may come upon us," said Madame Zamenoy.

"No indeed, ma'am," said Lotta Luxa.

"But I have done all in my power."

"That you have, ma'am."

"I feel quite sure, Lotta, that the Jew will never marry her. Why
should a man like that, who loves money better than his soul, marry a
girl who has not a kreutzer to bless herself?"

"Why indeed, ma'am! It's my mind that he don't think of marrying her."

"And, Jew as he is, he cares for his religion. He will not bring
trouble upon everybody belonging to him by taking a Christian for his
wife."

"That he will not, ma'am, you may be sure," said Lotta.

"And where will she be then? Only fancy, Lotta--to have been jilted by
a Jew!" Then Madame Zamenoy, without addressing herself directly to
Nina, walked out of the room; but as she did so she paused in the
doorway, and again spoke to Lotta. "To be jilted by a Jew, Lotta! Think
of that."

"I should drown myself," said Lotta Luxa. And then they both were gone.

The idea that the Jew might jilt her disturbed Nina more than all her
aunt's anger, or than any threats as to the penalties she might have
to encounter in the next world. She felt a certain delight, an inward
satisfaction, in giving up everything for her Jew lover--a satisfaction
which was the more intense, the more absolute was the rejection and the
more crushing the scorn which she encountered on his behalf from her
own people. But to encounter this rejection and scorn, and then to be
thrown over by the Jew, was more than she could endure. And would it,
could it, be so? She sat down to think of it; and as she thought of it
terrible fears came upon her. Old Trendellsohn had told her that such a
marriage on his son's part would bring him into great trouble; and old
Trendellsohn was not harsh with her as her aunt was harsh. The old
man, in his own communications with her, had always been kind and
forbearing. And then Anton himself was severe to her. Though he would
now and again say some dear, well-to-be-remembered happy word, as when
he told her that she was his sun, and that he looked to her for warmth
and