Herbert, or, as he was generally spoken of, Bertie Lee-Harrison, called at Lancaster Gate on the day of the New Year, to make acquaintance with Reuben’s people and offer his best wishes for the year 564-. He was a small, fair, fluent person, very carefully dressed, assiduously polite, and bearing on his amiable, commonplace, neatly modelled little face no traces of the spiritual conflict which any one knowing his history might have supposed him to have passed through. Esther, who happened to be calling on her aunt at the time of Bertie’s visit, classified him at once as an intelligent fool; but Adelaide professed herself delighted with the little man, and had had the joy of informing him that she had once met his sister, Lady Kemys, at a garden-party. “Lady Kemys is charming,” Reuben said when the matter was being discussed. “Sir Nicholas, too, is a good fellow. They have a place some miles out of St. Baldwin’s.” His mind ran a good deal on St. Baldwin’s in these days, and on poor Ronaldson, its Conservative member, lying hopelessly ill in Grosvenor Place. Reuben, it may be added, was true to the traditions of his race, and wore the primrose; while Leo, who knew nothing about politics, gave himself out as a social democrat. Mr. Lee-Harrison was to break his fast in Portland Place on the evening of the Day of Atonement, when it was old Solomon’s custom to assemble his family round him in great numbers. Adelaide objected to this arrangement. “It will give him such a bad impression,” she said. “He asked for local colour, and local colour he shall have,” answered Reuben, amused. “It is disloyal to your own people to assume such an attitude regarding them to a stranger. After all, he is not one of us,” cried Adelaide, taking a high tone. “Your accusations are a little vague, Addie; but to tell you the truth I had no choice in the matter. I took him up yesterday to Portland Place, and the old man gave him the invitation. He simply jumped at it.” “Those dreadful Samuel Sachses!” groaned Adelaide. “Oh, they are a remarkable survival. You should learn to take them in the right spirit,” answered her brother. He was dining that night at the house of an important Conservative M.P., and was disposed to take a cheerful view of things. * * * * * The Fast Day, or Day of Atonement, is the greatest national occasion of the whole year. Even those lax Jews who practise their callings on Saturdays and other religious holidays, are withheld by public opinion on either side the tribal barrier from doing so on this day of days. The synagogues are thronged; and if the number of people who rigidly adhere to total abstinence from food for twenty-four hours is rapidly diminishing, there are still many to be found who continue to do so.