“Ay, if she choose. But suppose she did not? She knows, does she not, about—Anegay?”
“Hush! Well, yes—something. But not what would do most mischief.”
“What, about her marriage with—”
“Man I do, for pity’s sake, give over, or thou wilt blurt all out! Do only think, if the child were to hear! Trust me, she would go back to that wasp’s nest to-morrow. No, no! Just listen to me, son of Ursel. Get her safely married before she knows anything. Leo may be relied upon to keep her in safe seclusion: and when she has a husband and half-a-dozen children to tie her down, heart and soul, to us, she will give over pining after the Gentiles.”
Belasez was conscious of a rising repugnance, which she had never felt before, to this marriage about to be forced upon her. Not personally to Leo, of whom she knew nothing; but to this tie contemplated for her, which was to be an impassable barrier between her and all her Christian friends.
“Well!” sighed Abraham. He evidently did not like it. “I suppose, then, I must let the Cohen (Note 1) know about it.”
“If it be not already too late,” responded Licorice, dubiously. “If only this second visit had not happened! There was less harm done the first time, and I do not quite understand it. Some stronger feeling has taken possession of her now. Either her faith is shaken—”
“May the All-Merciful defend us from such horror!”
“Well, it is either that, or there is love in her heart—a deeper love than for the Gentile woman, and the girls of whom she talks. She likes them, I do not doubt; but she would never break her heart after them. There is somebody else, old man, of whom we have not heard; and I counsel thee to try and find out him or her. I am sadly afraid it is him.”
“But, Licorice, she has not seen any one. The Lady passed her word that not a soul should come near her.”