“No matter for that, Shoodith, dear; no matter for that, if yoush can make him care for you.”
“Care for me! What, father! do you want him to fall in love with me?”
“Joosh that—joosh so.”
“For what reason, pray?”
“Don’t ash know. I hash a purpose. You shall know it in good time, Shoodith. You make him in luff with you—over head and earsh, if you like.”
The counsel did not appear averse to her who received it. Anything but displeasure was in her looks as she listened to it.
“But what,” asked she, after a reflective pause, and laughing as she spake, “what if, in luring him, I should myself fall into the lure? They say that the tarantula is sometimes taken in its own trap.”
“If you succeed in catching your fly, mine goot shpider Shoodith, that won’t signify. So much the better ish that. But fusht catch your fly. Don’t let go the shtrings of your heart, till you hash secured hish; and then you may do as you pleashe about falling in luff with him. Hush! I hear him coming from hish shamber. Now, Shoodith dear, show him every reshpect. Shower on him your sweetest of shmiles!”
And terminating the dialogue with this parental injunction, Jacob Jessuron walked off to conduct his guest into the great hall.
“Ah! worthy father!” said Judith, looking after him with a singular expression upon her countenance, “for once, you may find me a dutiful daughter; though not for you or your purpose—whatever that may be. I have my suspicion of what it is. No: not for that either—grand destiny as it might be deemed. There is something grander still—a passion perilous to play with; and just for that peril shall I play with it. Ha—he comes! How proud his step! He looks the master, and yon old Israelite his overseer—his book-keeper—ha! ha! ha!”