“If you were in my place, I don't think you'd know what to do.”
“If I were in your place, I should congratulate myself. I should be thankful for my tremendous good-luck, in winning such a wife. Tillie Morgen-thau is a jewel, if there ever was one. She has certain peculiarities of manner, I admit; but six months of intimate association with you, would tone them down to nothing. She's as pretty as a picture; she plays wonderfully; and her character is pure gold. Just think, boy, that this prize is within your grasp! Then, besides, you ought to get married, anyhow. Such an opportunity comes but once in a lifetime. I'm an old man; and I know what I'm talking about.”
“That may be; but that makes no difference. I simply repeat, I don't love her, I'm not in love with her. I shall never be in love with any body. My capacity for loving has been exhausted. I shall remain a bachelor all my life.”
“Oh, you try my patience. Your talk is silly. Your head is full of romantic notions, like a schoolgirl's. Remain a bachelor! Don't you know that every man is required by our religion to marry and bring up a family? Love? Gammon! Love marriages in nine cases out of ten are unhappy. Hundreds, thousands, of better men than you, have married without the sickish sentiment which you call love; and happier marriages were never made. I tell you, if you don't marry Miss Tillie Morgenthau, you'll live to repent it bitterly. Think of how she would brighten up this gloomy old house. Think of the children. Think—Oh, you're throwing away the flower of your life. The Lord—yes, sir—the Lord God of Israel has put this woman in your path; and you, with your imbecile delusions about love, see fit to spurn her!”
Elias held his peace.
By and by, “Well?” questioned the rabbi.
“Well, what?”
“Well, what are you going to do? Have you thought better of it?”
“I am still of the same mind.”
“You still mean to fly in the face of Providence?”