"I do not understand such stuff, Hugo. Thank God, I am not meshugge. But it is enough to make you crazy to think that a good Jewish girl cannot be kept from falling in love with a Posheh Yisroel. I always advised your father to arrange the match with Reinbach of Mannheim. If he had followed my advice, she would have been married long ago; and I am curious, very curious, to know whether in such circumstances it would have occurred to the Regierungsrat to wish to celebrate the birthday of Reb Loeb Friedlaender." "But Rita did not care for young Reinbach; and I am sure no one can blame her. Such an arrogant upstart, without any ideals." "There are some with ideals and some without. Reinbach is so rich that I cannot see why he needs ideals." "Well, to be sure, Elkish, he cannot buy them. But we need not complain of our financial position, either, and yet we are moved by ideals in our demands and hopes. Or look at Magnus. His father is a millionaire, and yet he thinks of nothing but the fulfilment of our plans. And look at Sternberg, and Rosenfeld, and myself, and others who might pass their lives seeking pleasures of all kinds, instead of worrying over the sorrows of our nation. And here comes a South German dandy, a man about town _a la mode de Paris_, a Jew, the type that is now being persecuted and maligned as never before, and whenever we come to the subject that absorbs us all so much, he curtly remarks, 'Judaism is a misfortune.'" "That is a phrase, nothing more." "It seems to me this is not the time for empty phrases," he answered gloomily. "The man that uses them, and uses them with such an air of superiority, is a fool. And that Rita should not accept such a fellow, you should find quite proper." "I prefer a Jewish fool to a baptized philosopher." "There are also Jewish philosophers." Henry's fine, pale face suddenly came to his mind. He arose and paced up and down the room lost in thought. Then he said: "It is very late, Elkish." "A Jewish philosopher, however, is no good match," he persevered. "Rita must decide that, not we. So let us go to bed now." "But, Hugo, you must promise me one thing. Be on your guard,--be on your guard." He shook the old clerk's hand: "Rest easy, Elkish. I share your fears, and also your dislikes." "I knew it. That's why I came to you. Good night, Hugo, with God's help all will come out right." "Let us hope so." When the door had closed upon the old man, Hugo fetched a deep sigh. It occurred to him how suddenly and apparently for no reason Rosenfeld had left, when the conversation had turned upon Dr. Weilen's intercourse with his family. "Is it possible that he, too...." He stared fixedly into the burning embers for some time before he put out his lamp, and went to sleep. * * * * *