"But you would not like me to marry any one I did not like." "God forbid! My little Hannah shall marry whomever she pleases." A wave of emotion passed over the girl's face. "You don't mean that, father," she said, shaking her head. "True as the Torah! Why should I not?" "Suppose," she said slowly, "I wanted to marry a Christian?" Her heart beat painfully as she put the question. Reb Shemuel laughed heartily. "My Hannah would have made a good Talmudist. Of course, I don't mean it in that sense." "Yes, but if I was to marry a very _link_ Jew, you'd think it almost as bad." "No, no!" said the Reb, shaking his head. "That's a different thing altogether; a Jew is a Jew, and a Christian a Christian." "But you can't always distinguish between them," argued Hannah. "There are Jews who behave as if they were Christians, except, of course, they don't believe in the Crucified One." Still the old Reb shook his head. "The worst of Jews cannot put off his Judaism. His unborn soul undertook the yoke of the Torah at Sinai." "Then you really wouldn't mind if I married a _link_ Jew!" He looked at her, startled, a suspicion dawning in his eyes. "I should mind," he said slowly. "But if you loved him he would become a good Jew." The simple conviction of his words moved her to tears, but she kept them back. "But if he wouldn't?" "I should pray. While there is life there is hope for the sinner in Israel." She fell back on her old question. "And you would really not mind whom I married?" "Follow your heart, my little one," said Reb Shemuel. "It is a good heart and it will not lead you wrong." Hannah turned away to hide the tears that could no longer be stayed. Her father resumed his reading of the Law. But he had got through very few verses ere he felt a soft warm arm round his neck and a wet cheek laid close to his. "Father, forgive me," whispered the lips. "I am so sorry. I thought, that--that I--that you--oh father, father! I feel as if I had never known you before to-night." "What is it, my daughter?" said Reb Shemuel, stumbling into Yiddish in his anxiety. "What hast thou done?" "I have betrothed myself," she answered, unwittingly adopting his dialect. "I have betrothed myself without telling thee or mother." "To whom?" he asked anxiously. "To a Jew," she hastened to assure him, "But he is neither a Talmud-sage nor pious. He is newly returned from the Cape." "Ah, they are a _link_ lot," muttered the Reb anxiously. "Where didst thou first meet him?" "At the Club," she answered. "At the Purim Ball--the night before Sam Levine came round here to be divorced from me." He wrinkled his great brow. "Thy mother would have thee go," he said. "Thou didst not deserve I should get thee the divorce. What is his name?"