"Never!" he repeated. "Listen, Judith! I know that madness blinds your eyes to-day, and deafens your ears. You will not understand what I am going to tell you. The wall here would comprehend it better. But you ought to feel that it is your father who thinks so, who loves you more than his own life, and who will not change his opinion. You are never to see or speak to the people up-stairs or to the count. You are to remain in your own room, and not to leave it without my orders. It would be best for me to have the horses harnessed and take you to the house from which I just came--my sister Recha's, in Tarnopol. She is a clever woman, your aunt Recha, and understands the management of sick people. But that will not be possible before the close of the week. Otherwise, this story would spread the more." "Father," she implored, "do not ruin me!" "Others wished to do that, and were in the best way to accomplish their purpose; but I, your father, will save you. Whether the count is a scoundrel, who is calculating on it in cold blood, and has hired that other scoundrel up-stairs to help him, or whether he is only a weak man, who, in the turmoil of passion, has tolerated the assistance of the wretch, I do not know; but it is all the same, as in either case your fate would have been a fearful one." "Do not insult him!" she cried. "He is good and true! Ask him, if you doubt it, or listen to him when he comes to ask for my hand." "I can safely promise that," he replied, bitterly; "for he will not come. And I shall certainly not ask him, because I already know the answer, and will not have it said of me: 'The old man lost his senses in despair, and actually implored the count to make the lost girl his wife.'" "But if he should come?" "Then I should say, 'No! no! no!' as long as there was breath in my body, in order to save you from unhappiness. For fire and water will not mix quietly, and a woman who is a curse to her husband is the most wretched creature on earth. If Count Agenor Baranowski was really insane enough to marry my daughter, he would be morally dead. There would be a three months' delirium, and then a life of misery, and you deserve a better fate. Not another word," he continued, imperiously, as she was about to speak. "You have had to hear my will to-day, though as yet you cannot understand me." She stepped forward and raised her hands imploringly. He silently shook his head. Her arms fell, and she staggered from the room, her entire body quivering with emotion. He looked after her sadly, and even after the door closed his eyes were fixed in that direction.