"One of monsieur's friends is here; shall I show him in?"
"Certainly," said Jacob.
It was Mathilde's father. He did not recognize his relative, and was surprised to see an old Jewess seated on the sofa. He had suspected Jacob of entertaining a visitor of another kind.
"Mother, you remember Monsieur Samuel, our cousin, and my guardian?" said Jacob. "I owe everything to him."
"After God, it is to you that I am most grateful," replied Jacob's mother.
Monsieur Samuel was somewhat embarrassed; he succeeded, nevertheless, in addressing some words of courtesy to the good woman, and to relieve himself of his embarrassment he drew Jacob aside under pretext of pressing business.
"I came to consult with you," said he; "but we can leave it until some other time. Now let me ask you, what will you do with your mother?"
"The name of 'mother' is my only reply."
"A beautiful phrase; but do not be sentimental, I beg of you, dear Jacob. Do not compromise yourself in the eyes of the world. This queerly dressed old woman, if she is seen with you, will hurt us socially as well as you. You cannot brave public opinion."
"I do not care to cultivate the acquaintance of those who mock my affection for my mother," said Jacob. "This will prove their worth; thus I can tell the gold from the baser metal."