"Why should not a Jew love? I believe the man loves her well. Why else should he wish to make her his wife?" "And I love her well--and I would make her my wife." "You want to marry Nina!" "Yes, uncle Josef. I wish to marry Nina. I will marry her to-morrow-- or, for that matter, to-day--if she will have me." "You! Ziska Zamenoy!" "I, Ziska Zamenoy." "And what would your mother say?" "Both father and mother will consent. There need be no hindrance if Nina will agree. I did not know that you were so badly off. I did not indeed, or I would have come to you myself and seen to it." Old Balatka did not answer for a while, having turned himself in his bed to think of the proposition which had been made to him. "Would you not like to have me for a son-in-law better than a Jew, uncle Josef?" said Ziska, pleading for himself as best he knew how to plead. "Have you ever spoken to Nina?" said the old man. "Well, no; not exactly to say what I have said to you. When one loves a girl as I love her, somehow--I don't know how--But I am ready to do so at once. "Ah, Ziska, if you had done it sooner!" "But is it too late? You say she has taken up with this man because you are both so poor. She cannot like a Jew best." "But she is true--so true!" "If you mean about her promise to Trendellsohn, Father Jerome would tell her in a minute that she should not keep such a promise to a Jew." "She would not mind Father Jerome." "And what does she mind? Will she not mind you?" "Me; yes--she will mind me, to give me my food." "Will she not obey you?" "How am I to bid her obey me? But I will try, Ziska." "You would not wish her to marry a Jew?" "No, Ziska; certainly I should not wish it." "And you will give me your consent?" "Yes, if it be any good to you." "It will be good if you will be round with her, telling her that she must not do such a thing as this. Love a Jew! It is impossible. As you have been so very poor, she may be forgiven for having thought of it. Tell her that, uncle Josef; and whatever you do, be firm with her." "There she is in the next room," said the father, who had heard his daughter's entrance. Ziska's face had assumed something of a defiant look while he was recommending firmness to the old man; but now that the girl of whom he had spoken was so near at hand, there returned to his brow the young calf-like expression with which Lotta Luxa was so well acquainted. "There she is, and you will speak to her yourself now," said Balatka.