"It is a good work done, my love," said Aaron to his wife, rubbing his hands with satisfaction; "a good work done."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
[RACHEL'S LIFE IN THE NEW LAND.]
Meanwhile Rachel throve. She walked with an elastic spring in her feet, as though in response to nature's greeting, and joy and happiness accompanied her everywhere. She was profoundly and devoutly grateful for her husband's better fortune, and daily rendered up thanks for it to the Giver of all good. She took pleasure in everything; blind as she was, she enjoyed nature's gifts to the full. In winter it was extraordinary to hear her describe the aspect of woods and fields in their white feathery mantle; with deep-drawn breath she inhaled the fresh cold air, and a glory rested on her face as she trod the snow-clad paths. When she visited the poor on those cold days Prissy accompanied her, carrying a well-filled basket on her arm. Her sympathy with the sick and suffering was Divine, and in the bleakest hours, when the sky was overcast and the light was hidden from shivering mortals, she was the herald of sunshine. A priest met her on one of these journeys, and gave her good-day.
"Good-day, father," she said.
"You know me!" he exclaimed, surprised; for though his priestly calling was apparent from his attire, Rachel could not see it.
"I heard your voice a fortnight ago," she replied, "in the cottage I am going to now, and I never forget a voice. After you were gone the poor woman told me you were her priest. I heard so much of you that was beautiful."
She put forth her hand; he hesitated a moment, then took it and pressed it.
"How sad, how sad, my daughter, that you are a Jewess!"
"I am happily a Jewess, father."