Life and peace to my sister Mistress Hannah. I have received your second letter. It was soaked with tears and full of insults directed against me, my wife Eva Gütel, and even the bride, Beile-Sasha, and it has upset me very much, for why? You say, sister Hannah, that I am a bandit, that I met you, heaven forbid, in a wood, and, heaven forbid, murdered you; that it was I and my wife, Eva Gütel, who drove you from the house; that Beile-Sasha, in your opinion, is a hussy, because she is ordering silk dresses--what am I to say? I must listen in silence, knowing the trouble you are in--that it is not you that speak, but your heavy heart. But it is not as you think. I am no murderer, thank heaven! And were any one to come from the street and declare that the cloak I am wearing is his, and that he is going to law about it, I should go with him to the rabbi's without a word. And if, God willing, you come to the wedding, we will go together and have it out. And see here: About the board you did not eat, you confess yourself in your letter that it came about through a quarrel between you and my wife (it's not my affair who began it), and all I see is, that your husband was a great booby--"that he followed after his wife." They say that you ran away in the evening following Sabbath, and made yourselves a laughing-stock. Our father was greatly distressed, and it shortened his days (he said so plainly--neighbors heard it), and you put it all on Eva Gütel! It's a calumny! But what is done, is done! Our father lies in his grave. There can be no more question of board or anything else. And you know very well that Beile-Sasha, the bride, is no hussy. She, poor thing, is quite innocent in the matter. Her future father-in-law, the Takif,[119] forced me to order the silk dresses. Once even she cried, and said it would ruin us, but what am I to do, when the contract says "in dresses of silk and satin," and he will hear of no alteration--it's take it or leave it. And there would be no choice but to see my daughter an old maid. And you know the dowry will not be given entirely in cash. I have promised six, and given three, hundred rubles; I have mortgaged the house for two hundred rubles, and you know the house stands in our father's name, so that I had to pay extra--and now I am so short of money that may God have mercy on me. But what is the use of telling that to a woman! Our sages were right when they said: "Women are feather-brained," and there is the proverb: "Long hair (in girls, of course) and short wits." I shall write separately to your husband; he is a man learned in the Law, and he will know that one human being should not lean upon another, because, as we are told, a human being can only just support himself. One must have faith.