“Oh, yes, in the times of the Ghetto, when the Jews were not allowed to own real estate—so they bought jewels and hung them around the necks of their wives who wore them in secret and gave them to their daughters and daughters’ daughters. This has an interesting history.” She touched a necklace of shining, pink, living things lying against her white skin. “When the Romans separated Queen Berenice from her kingly lover, the last thing he did was to throw these pearls around her neck. She went back to her own dominion and the pearls after her death became the property of the Temple. We have had them in our family for many generations.”
He bent down to examine the pearls, but his gaze stopped at her soft dark eyes.
“And you will give them to your daughter?”
“Yes,” said Ruth, “but I don’t think I shall ever marry.”
“Why—” insisted Joseph.
“Because,” her voice dropped, he bent lower to listen, “I can only marry one of my own faith; they are all dying out. They have forgotten their ancestry.”
6
Father Cabello had reached the zenith of his earthly ambition, the Cardinalate. He had easily won in the race for advancement—a man of wealth and winning personality. The magic word “America” gave him prestige; it was a sign of goodwill to the church in the United States. The priest was generally beloved, his doors were always open to the poor, to whom he gave liberal hands; they crowded the steps of his house, penetrated into his apartments. All efforts of his attendants to keep them away was futile.
“Let them in,” said the Father, “they will be my future associates, ‘for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.’”