“Half-past ten already,” he said, rising with reluctance. “I have stayed an unconscionable time, and my mother asked me particularly to come home.”
“Naughty boy!” she exclaimed playfully. “You must put the blame on me. Does Lady Montella know that—that—I mean, does she know about me?”
“Not yet, dear.” His brow clouded. “But she shall know very soon.”
“Do you think she will be displeased?”
“Displeased!” He took her in his arms again. “My darling, who could be displeased where you are concerned?”
“But I am a Christian, Lionel, and you are a Jew.”
“Yes, dear; but what does that matter? Are we to be separated for life because of the difference in our birth? The sacrifice is too great—for me, at least. Does it make any difference to you that I am a Jew?”
“None at all,” she rejoined impetuously, “unless it makes me love you more.”
He pressed her hand.
“I am glad—so glad—and yet—” A new thought came into his mind. “Patricia, my heart’s dearest, there may be dark days coming for my people. If Athelstan Moore becomes Premier, Heaven alone knows what new plans he may be able to carry out. As a Member of Parliament, and a representative of one of the oldest Jewish families in the kingdom, it is possible I may be considered the spokesman for my co-religionists. In that case, I shall have to defend their cause with all the enthusiasm of which I am capable. So you see that while I am the friend of Christians, I must, at the same time, be the still greater champion of the Jews. Patricia, dearest, this may bring me into a most unenviable position, one which I fear to ask you to share.”