The pedlar reflected for a moment.
“Let my Lady pardon her servant if he cannot give that answer at this moment. If my daughter have no work promised, so that she can give her time entirely to this, it can be done without fail. But it is some days since my Lady’s servant saw her, and she may have made some engagement since.”
“I am the better pleased thou art not too ready to promise,” said the Countess, smiling. “But what about the work being done under my eye? I will lodge thy daughter, and feed her, and give her a gold penny extra for it.”
The old Jew looked very grave.
“Let my Lady not be angered with the lowest of her servants! But—we are of another religion.”
“Art thou afraid of my converting her?” asked the Countess, in an amused tone.
“Under my Lady’s pardon—no!” said the old man, proudly. “I can trust my daughter. And if my noble Lady will make three promises on whatsoever she holds most holy, the girl shall come.”
“She should be worth having, when she is so hard to get at!” responded the Countess, laughing, as she took from her bosom a beautiful little silver crucifix, suspended by a chain of the same material from her neck, “Now then, old man, what am I to swear?”
“First, that my daughter shall not be required to work in any manner on the holy Sabbath,—namely, as my Lady will understand it, from sunset on Friday until the same hour on Saturday.”
“That I expected. I know Jews are very precise about their Sabbaths. Very well,—so that the scarf be finished by Wednesday before Whitsuntide, that I swear.”