ho had so deeply offended her. She began to tell herself, in the
weariness of her sorrow, that men were different from women, and, of
their nature, more suspicious; that no woman had a right to expect
every virtue in her lover, and that no woman had less of such right
than she herself, who had so little to give in return for all that
Anton proposed to bestow upon her. She began to think that she could
forgive him, even for his suspicion, if he would only come to be
forgiven. But he came not, and it was only too plain to her that she
could not be the first to go to him after what had passed between them.
And then there fell another crushing sorrow upon her. Her father was
ill--so ill that he was like to die. The doctor came to him--some son
of Galen who had known the merchant in his prosperity--and, with kind
assurances, told Nina that her father, though he could pay nothing,
should have whatever assistance medical attention could give him; but
he said, at the same time, that medical attention could give no aid
that would be of permanent service. The light had burned down in the
socket, and must go out. The doctor took Nina by the hand, and put his
own hand upon her soft tresses, and spoke kind words to console her.
And then he said that the sick man ought to take a few glasses of wine
every day; and as he was going away, turned back again, and promised
to send the wine from his own house. Nina thanked him, and plucked up
something of her old spirit during his presence, and spoke to him as
though she had no other care than that of her father's health; but as
soon as the doctor was gone she thought again of her Jew lover. That
her father should die was a great grief. But when she should be alone
in the old house, with the corpse lying on the bed, would Anton
Trendellsohn come to her then?

He did not come to her now, though he knew of her father's illness. She
sent Souchey to the Jews' quarter to tell the sad news--not to him, but
to old Trendellsohn. "For the sake of the property it is right that he
should know," Nina said to herself, excusing to herself on this plea
her weakness in sending any message to the house of Anton Trendellsohn
till he should have come and asked her pardon. But even after this he
came not. She listened to every footstep that entered the courtyard.
She could not keep herself from going to the window, and from looking
into the square. Surely now, in her deep sorrow, in her solitude, he
would come