"The Law knows no exceptions," said Reb Shemuel gently, quoting in Hebrew, "'The Law of God is perfect, enlightening the eyes.' Be patient, my dear children, in your affliction. It is the will of God. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away--bless ye the name of the Lord." "Not I!" said David harshly. "But look to Hannah. She has fainted." "No, I am all right," said Hannah wearily, opening the eyes she had closed. "Do not make so certain, father. Look at your books again. Perhaps they do make an exception in such a case." The Reb shook his head hopelessly. "Do not expect that," he said. "Believe me, my Hannah, if there were a gleam of hope I would not hide it from you. Be a good girl, dear, and bear your trouble like a true Jewish maiden. Have faith in God, my child. He doeth all things for the best. Come now--rouse yourself. Tell David you will always be a friend, and that your father will love him as though he were indeed his son." He moved towards her and touched her tenderly. He felt a violent spasm traversing her bosom. "I can't, father," she cried in a choking voice. "I can't. Don't ask me." David leaned against the manuscript-littered table in stony silence. The stern granite faces of the old continental Rabbis seemed to frown down on him from the walls and he returned the frown with interest. His heart was full of bitterness, contempt, revolt. What a pack of knavish bigots they must all have been! Reb Shemuel bent down and took his daughter's head in his trembling palms. The eyes were closed again, the chest heaved painfully with silent sobs. "Do you love him so much, Hannah?" whispered the old man. Her sobs answered, growing loud at last. "But you love your religion more, my child?" he murmured anxiously. "That will bring you peace." Her sobs gave him no assurance. Presently the contagion of sobbing took him too. "O God! God!" he moaned. "What sin have I committed; that thou shouldst punish my child thus?" "Don't blame God!" burst forth David at last. "It's your own foolish bigotry. Is it not enough your daughter doesn't ask to marry a Christian? Be thankful, old man, for that and put away all this antiquated superstition. We're living in the nineteenth century." "And what if we are!" said Reb Shemuel, blazing up in turn. "The Torah is eternal. Thank God for your youth, and your health and strength, and do not blaspheme Him because you cannot have all the desire of your heart or the inclination of your eyes." "The desire of my heart," retorted David. "Do you imagine I am only thinking of my own suffering? Look at your daughter--think of what you are doing to her and beware before it is too late." "Is it in my hand to do or to forbear?" asked the old man, "It is the Torah. Am I responsible for that?"