"Was it not the Earl himself who suggested the means by which matrimonial rites could be celebrated between his own half-brother and myself?" demanded Tamar eagerly.
"Yes," replied Esther, every feature of her fine aquiline countenance deriving additional charms from the crimson hues which mantled on that splendid face, and spread themselves over her arching neck, her gracefully sloping shoulders, and the rich contours of her virgin bust, which, in the presence of her sister, no invidious drapery now concealed:—"yes, Tamar," she replied; "but there are other—oh! and far more important considerations. Consider how exalted is the rank of that great nobleman—and consider, also," she added, in a mournful tone, "how much our race is still despised even in this land, which boasts of an almost consummate civilisation!"
"The Earl of Ellingham, I feel convinced, despises such absurd—such pitiful prejudices," said Tamar, labouring only to render her sister happy by means of joyous hope. "As an enlightened man, he must recognise how deeply his country is indebted, in respect to its wondrous prosperity, to the commercial enterprise and the financial skill of our nation. Moreover, do we not believe in the same God? For the Almighty whom the Christians worship, is the same who brought our forefathers out of Egypt, and gave them the promised land. In a word, my beloved Esther, Arthur of Ellingham is too noble-minded a being to despise you because you cling to the creed in which you were brought up; and something tells me that my sister is destined to become the Countess of Ellingham."
Esther sighed, but made no response.
Tamar continued to discourse in the same inconsiderate strain for several minutes. She was actuated by the most generous motives towards her sister; but, in the enthusiasm of her affection and gratitude, she forgot that she might only be exciting hopes destined never to receive a fulfilment, and encouraging a passion which, after all, was perhaps doomed to experience the bitterness of disappointment.
At length Esther turned towards her, and exclaimed hastily, "Tamar—if you love me, speak on this topic no more. It may be false shame on my part,—but it seems to me that it is unmaidenly thus to discourse on a subject in which one, who is separated from me by so wide a gulf, is concerned. Alas! deeply do I regret that, in a moment of weakness, I admitted aloud that which my heart had not hitherto dared to whisper even to itself! I should have exercised more command over myself. Oh! I have been foolish—very foolish to permit such a thought even to assume the faintest shape in my imagination. But we will abandon the topic;—and again I say, Tamar—if you love me, renew it not!"
There was a minute's pause, at the expiration of which Esther began to converse gaily and rapidly on Tamar's future prospects in the clime to which it was contemplated that herself and Rainford were to proceed; and the amiable girl communicated to her sister all that she had read concerning the United States of North America.
This little manœuvre on the part of Esther was to change the topic of discourse: and Tamar did not attempt to renew a subject which offended the maiden pride of her sister.
Oh! happy was Tamar to sleep beneath her father's roof that night—to know, to feel that she was in the parental dwelling again! When she awoke once, while it was yet dark, she fancied that she had been dreaming—so strange did all the incidents of the preceding day appear to be—so truly incredible! But, as she stretched out her arms, they encountered the form of her sister; and then—in the silence and obscurity of the night—Tamar joined her hands and prayed fervently,—far, far more fervently than she had prayed for some years past!
And, Christian! darest thou believe that the prayers of the despised Jewess were not wafted with thine own to the throne of the Eternal?