CHAPTER VIII. THE FALSE FRIEND. But, O! revenge is sweet! Thus think the crowd; who, eager to engage, * * Too noble for revenge; which still we find The weakest frailty of a feeble mind.-DRYDEN. As Judith was about to shut her dressing room door, she felt a slight push against it; on which she hastily re-opened it, demanding, "Who is it that dares to molest me!"-" Oh missee," softly whispered Joseph, for he had no light, and his black face could not be seen in the corner of the landing place where he had concealed himself; “Oh missee, take dis," giving Judith, at the same time, a small bundle of letters, which she instantly recognized as those which had been safely deposited in her work-box, and, to render them the more secure, she had taken up a board in her closet to conceal it. "Dear me, Joseph, what means this?"—" Disse, missee; disse, missee; dat your mamma and your papa have been told dat dare was a box in de floar, and so day say day will open and see; and day callee me, and say, 'Go open, dake, and bring de rascal's letters here!'-I did as I was commanded; first opening de box, and taking all dees out, and leaving a few pieces mit varses in, and a bunch of tead flowers."-" Good worthy creature!" said Judith. "Well, missee, my mistress made your fader read them; and I pretended to be busy placing de ornaments on de drawing room table. Well, missee, your moder cried, 'Oh, my blessed Villiam, those letters are certainly wrong, being unknown to me; but, dear Louis, they are not love letters; you see, he is telling Judith to be attentive to her duties as a child, and never to forget their friendship was formed in childhood, when all is 'a dream of bliss.' 'Dat may all be very fine, Caroline, but is it proper dat a Christian should write to your daughter? Oh, no! And we must stop this! But, look there: it is years ago. She is now seventeen: and when those were written, she was thirteen. She, also, appears to take more interest in our religious forms; nor does she make such work with Rabbi Isaac.'- Vell, Caroline, dose vo lives longest vill see de mosht! You vill have a Christian daughter, and Hartford vill be her husband. De gall is too deep for you and me! De English galls are all deep! No French JUDITH BETRAYED. 71 gall vold do as Ellen has, in telling us about dees letters: for though de Rabbi says, she done it to save a Jewess from falling off, yet it vos a bad ding. Yes, Louis, it is; but, we will talk to Judith, and, I have no doubt, she will confess all.'-' Dere is some young men coming to look out a vife, and ve vill invite dem to dinner, Caroline, and make her marry out of hand.'-' Vell let dat be so,' said your mamma. So, missee, dey did not see these last letters vich good masse Hartford sent you."-" Thank you, good Joseph; your kindness shall not go unrewarded; stand my friend, and you will indeed help 'THE WORN Having closed her door, she sank in her chair, overcome with grief, more for the duplicity of her pretended friend, than for the penance and lectures she would have to undergo: Judith being determined, let what might happen, that William only would she marry. It was then she felt that vacancy of heart, which her religion could not alleviate. She strove to pray. She did so in Hebrew, as she had been taught; but it was like the jargon of a parrot. She could not even understand when she pronounced her Maker's name. "This, this cannot be the language of God," thought Judith. "Oh! Hartford, I must then yield, and pray to your God, in the language 66 you tell me! He will hear!" Yes she did; and succeeded in calming her agitated mind, by calling on her Maker in the feelings of her heart. Being more composed, she laid down; but the thoughts of the shame and disgrace she should have to contend with, prevented her even closing her eyes. After a night of painful watching, she arose and entered the presence of her exasperated teacher and parents. Vell, mish Judit," so you have been receiving letters from a Goyer !"* "Good morning, respected teacher," said Judith, mildly pretending not to see his ire. "Sit down," said her mother, calmly; but this was enough. She saw her mother's once beauteous face, worn down by sickness, silently reproaching her with her looks of forbearance. "Oh," thought poor Judith," all, all could I have borne, but this kindness is too much!"-" Vot, vill you allow mish Judit to sit at de table, and eat mit you? Do you not know she is in love mit de Goyer?"— "Be silent, good Rabbi! Have we not all our moments of sin and contrition? Perhaps Judith will repent, and promise she will never (if she ever did) entertain a thought about William Hartford. Promise, dear Judith, and be my child again," continued the mother, as she held out * Christian. THE RECONCILIATION. 133 73 her hand, which Judith respectfully placed on her head, and, looking up in her beloved mother's face, piously asked her blessing. The Jews receive this, night and morning. She had it; and, it wash out those moments of disobedience in her after life. may After the breakfast was over, her mother led her into a small parlour, where, reminding Judith of her religion, she at length persuaded her to confess, how devoted was her young heart to William. Her mother, with tears, answered, that were he but a Jew, he would be the only man she should wish to see her united with; but, as it was, she must remember him as one dead, and never meet him again. "Mother," sobbed out Judith, "ask not this; but, believe your child, she never will become the wife of a Christian, unless it be to prevent her being compelled to marry a Jew." Mutual promises having passed, her mother undertook to pacify her father, and to silence the Rabbi. Untiff being out, it was proposed that a party should go on an aquatic excursion, to visit a few friends who resided at Falmouth, as a marriage was about to take place in their family. Judith was invited; and as Rabbi Isaac was remarkable for his piety, he was to perform the ceremony. It has been already said, that a Jew must not |