im, but her eyes were cast down.
She stood still for a moment, then, with a hurried movement, turned
away.

"Gudule!" cried Ascher, horror-stricken, as he fell back almost
senseless in his chair.

Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this
unhappy father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the
woman who had so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The utterance
of her name, the terror that accompanied the exclamation, denoted the
effect which the girl's sudden appearance had produced upon that sadly
unhinged mind.

"Viola!" Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, "why don't you come
here?"

"I _can't_, Ephraim, I _can't_..." she moaned, as, with halting steps,
she walked towards the door.

"Come, speak to him, do," Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in his.

"Let me go!" she cried, trying to release herself.... "I am thinking of
mother!"

Suddenly Ascher rose.

"Where's my stick?" he cried. "I want the stick which I brought with
me.... Where is it? I must go."

"Father, you won't..." cried Ephraim.

Then Viola turned round.

"Father," she said, with twitching lips... "you'll want something to eat
before you go."

"Yes, yes, let me have something to eat," he shouted, as he brought his
fist down upon the table. "Bring me wine... and let it be good... I am
thirsty enough to drink the river dry.... Wine, and beer, and anything
else you can find, bring all here, and then, when I 've had my fill, I
'll go."

"Go, Viola," Ephraim whispered in his sister's ear, "and bring him all
he asks for."

When Viola had left the room, Ascher appeared to grow calmer. He sat
down again leaning his arms upon the table.

"Yes," he muttered to himself: "I 'll taste food with my children,
before I take up my stick and go.... They say it's lucky to have the
first drink of the day served by one's own child... and luck I _will_
have again, at any price... What good children! While I 've been
anything but a good father to them, they run hither and thither and take
the trouble to get me food and drink, and I, I 've brought them home
nothing but a wooden stick. But I 'll repay them, so help me God, I 'll
make them rich yet, but I 've got nothing but a wooden stick, and I want
money, no play without money, and no luck either...."

Gradually a certain thoughtfulness overspread Ascher's agitated
features, his lips were tightly compressed, deep furrows lined his
forehead, while his