"Nay, father; let him do so," said Rebecca. "He has known me long enough to scold me if he thinks that I deserve it. You are gentle to me and spoil me, and it is only well that one among my old friends should be sincere enough to be ungentle." "I beg your pardon, Rebecca, if I have been uncourteous." "There can be no pardon where there is no offence." "If you are ashamed to hear of your marriage," said the father, "you should be ashamed to think of it." Then there was silence for a few seconds before anyone spoke. The girls did not dare to speak after words so serious from the father to the son. It was known to both of them that Anton could hardly bring himself to bear a rebuke even from his father, and they felt that such a rebuke as this, given in their presence, would be altogether unendurable. Every one in the room understood the exact position in which each stood to the other. That Rebecca would willingly have become Anton's wife, that she had refused various offers of marriage in order that ultimately it might be so, was known to Stephen Trendellsohn, and to Anton himself, and to Ruth Jacobi. There had not been the pretence of any secret among them in the matter. But the subject was one which could hardly be discussed by them openly. "Father," said Anton, after a while, during which the black thunder-cloud which had for an instant settled on his brow had managed to dispel itself without bursting into a visible storm--"father, I am neither ashamed to think of my intended marriage nor to speak of it. There is no question of shame. But it is unpleasant to make such a subject matter of general conversation when it is a source of trouble instead of joy among us. I wish I could have made you happy by my marriage." "You will make me very wretched." "Then let us not talk about it. It cannot be altered. You would not have me false to my plighted word?" Again there was silence for some minutes, and then Rebecca spoke--the words coming from her in the lowest possible accents. "It can be altered without breach of your plighted word. Ask the young woman what she herself thinks. You will find that she knows that you are both wrong." "Of course she knows it," said the father. "I will ask her nothing of the kind," said the son. "It would be of no use," said Ruth. After this Rebecca rose to take her leave, saying something of the falseness of her brother Samuel, who had promised to come for her and to take her home. "But he is with Miriam Harter," said Rebecca, "and, of course, he will forget me." "I will go home with you," said Anton. "Indeed you shall not. Do you think I cannot walk alone through our own streets in the dark without being afraid?" "I am well aware that you are afraid of nothing; but nevertheless, if you will allow me, I will accompany you." There was no sufficient cause for her to refuse his company, and the two left the house together.