Still the girl remained silent.
"Well, my child; who has stolen your heart?" asked the Rabbi, kindly.
"Father, I love Joseph Kierson," said Kathinka, faintly, hiding her blushing face upon the Rabbi's shoulder.
"What, my former pupil?" asked the Rabbi, astonished. "I must have been blind not to have observed it. And does he love you?"
"I think he does," she archly answered.
"But Joseph is poor," returned her father. "He has nothing and has as yet no profession. He is merely a student at the University."
"But he has a brilliant intellect," retorted Kathinka, proudly. "I have heard you say a dozen times that he will achieve renown. It is one of your favorite maxims that a man must rise by his own exertions. Joseph is destined to rise."
"How long has this understanding existed?" asked Mendel.
"We were fond of each other as children, when he first began his lessons at cheder," replied the girl, earnestly; "but it was only recently that he declared his love."
"He found that you were surrounded by admiring youths and feared that you might be taken from him," added her mother.