Throughout the service the girl experienced a sense of keen disappointment. Either there was something radically wrong with the service, or there was some spiritual sense of appreciation lacking in herself. Perhaps she had not received sufficient Jewish knowledge to enable her to understand the mystic symbolism of Jewish rites and ceremonies. After some consideration she discovered what might be the cause. It was not the service itself, for there could be nothing more majestic than those grand old psalms and supplications in the grand old Hebrew tongue;--but it was partly the way in which the service was conducted, and partly the irreverent demeanour of the congregation themselves. A single glance around showed her that the true spirit of devotion was almost entirely absent from their midst. The men, with the exception of three or four grey-heads, who swayed to and fro with the fervency or their prayers, looked either bored or indifferent. The majority of the women seemed absorbed in contemplation of each other’s _yomtovdic_[8] clothes, whilst some of them, including Mrs. Friedberg, gently slumbered. The children conversed with each other in whispers, interspersed with occasional giggles and ejaculations; it was scarcely surprising that they should find the service long and tiresome, for there was no music, and it was almost entirely in a language they could not understand. If these people had been truly devout, Celia would have been devout also, for she possessed a nature which was capable of being deeply moved. But she could not help feeling that this was a spurious form of worship from which the glory of God was almost obscured. At the close of the service, Mrs. Rosen asked her what she thought of it all. “It was very nice, wasn’t it?” she said convincingly. “I go to that synagogue every Saturday, and always like the service there so much.” The girl scarcely knew how to reply. Clearly there must be something wrong with her own way of looking at things. As the congregation poured out of the synagogue, she heard nothing but favourable comments on the service. It was so beautiful, every one said,--so impressive; and the Rev. Abrahams’ sermon was so interesting. Mrs. Friedberg came down the stairs with another lady of the same proportions as herself. “Oh, I did enjoy the service, Celia!” she exclaimed, with a deep sigh. “And they all liked my new bonnet, didn’t they, Mrs. Joseph?” “Yes, my dear,” answered the other lady, soothingly. “It looks as if it had come straight from Paris in a band-box.” “Fifteen shillings in the Grove, and not a penny more!” chuckled Mrs. Friedberg, confidentially. “It’s the best bargain I’ve had for a long time, my dear.” David Salmon was promenading outside with Lottie and Dinah. Although a terrible tease, he was a great favourite with the girls. As soon as they caught sight of Celia, they very kindly marched off to hunt up Montie and Victor, and David escorted Celia home as a matter of course.