A DAUGHTER OF JUDAH.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6467, 22 April 1899, Page 1

A DAUGHTER OF JUDAH.

(By THE COUNTESS DE SULMALLA), Author of "The Slumbering Soul," "A Dream," "Monica's Story," et<:., etc. [All Rights Resebved.] PART I. FOB LACK OF GOLD. "My heart -will break! 0, mother, my heart will break!" " Nonsense, girl ! How can you grieve for the loss of Michael Aaron?" "Mother, I loved him once, I love him still." " Bg not a fool, Leah, but bestir yourself and seek some employment. There is nothing for you in the future but hard work — veiy hard work. Bestir yourself, I say. Put him out of your heart — out of your thoughts. He never had a care for you ; it was for the money he thought you would bring to him. Ah ! all our sons are alike — greedy of the gold. Up and be doing. You have no time to waste on sighs and teal's. Nothing remains ; simply nothing. I can go to Reyben ; but not you. He does not like you ; he didn't like your father. Your uncle \rill give me shelter, and you must immediately seek employment."

" But what employment am I to seek, and where 4m I to seek it?" :.

" You are fairly well educated for a girl of your position, you are domesticated, and, notwithstanding the want of training, an excellent nurse."

" I am a pretty good accountant," I could fill a clerk's place, and I could be a help ; but I am sure that I should not be employed by anyone as a sick nurse, having had no training nor any experience outside our own circle."

"Oh, you'll get something, without doubt. I'll speak this very evening to the Samuels and the Levis, and go to our rabbi and tell him all. Yes, you'll get something, you must— you must, for I cannot support, you, Aaron will not marry you, and youj.' Uncle Reuben will not aid you by the gift of so much as a farthing. Bestir yourself, I say. Dry your tears, stifle your sighs, and collect your wits together." " Have you never known love, mother?" "Love! There is no such thing, Leah. It is a fancy— a fancy that fools indulge in to their sorrow. No, I have never been afflicted with it. My thoughts have always been occupied with the realities of life. Before I married I had to work in my father's business. Your grand-parents were not indulgent to any one of their children. We were worked hard and ruled with the rod of iron— boys and girls alike; and when my husband was chosen for me, I took him without a murmur, obedient to the will of my parents. He possessed sufficient means to satisfy my father, and I took to him a large enough sum of money to content him. There was none of that nonsense, that fancy, you and other fools like you, call love. It was a perfectly business-like transaction; and so I have regarded marriage ever since.

Now, girl, you must earn a portion for yourself, if you wish to ! get a husband. Our men will not marry portionless women You must work hard and save every farthmg, if you would buy yourself a husband How I hate to see your cheeks wet with those foolish tears ; if you must shed them get out of my sight and 'do it. -In- ail my days put together I never shed so many tears as you have this one morning. And for a man, too; it is the greatest follyit shows you weak of mind. For the loss of gold you might grieve; so should I for^ that; but for a man, never! never!" "Mother, mother, I am your child yet you do not understand me. I, am not money-loving, like others of my race. No it is degrading. The vile deeds our people commit for gold make the Christians hold us in contempt." "No, girl, it is not contempt, it is envy. They envy our success— our acquisition of wealth— the power we are eainine in the land." b B

0, mother, our men are want-ing in honour; they lie, and cheat, and deceive for gold. I am not proud of our people. It is seldom—very seldom— that one of them is noble. The love of gold dominates and blunts every better feeling. My heart is torn and bleeding, becaose I lack gold. I have been cruelty jilted by one who professed so much. Has he not lied, deceived, acted dishonouraby? And yet I loved him so— l loved him so, and I love him still."

. "Bah, girl! You make me think your brain is diseased. You sicken me, in very truth you do. Away with you !" "The Emmanuels are going to open * first-class boarding-house in Bombay. They are going to run it on American lines — on a gigantic scale, don't you know? They are taking out a number of English upper servants of both sexes. Perhaps Mrs Emmanuel could find some employment in her ' establishment for your daughter, Mrs Cohen. Leah is a very capable girl and extremely taking in her manners and appearance. I -will speak for her. I am very friendly with Mrs Emmanuel." "Thank you, Mrs Levi. Leah must get some employment at once. I can't keep her, and her Uncle Reuben will not, so there we are." " Poor girl ! I suppose she felt the blow dealt her lately. Aar,on is seeking a wife in another quarter already; but he will not meet with success. The young Ta3y has a large fortune, and is destined for a Polish, banker." " No, he wouldn't take my Leah without a portion ; none of our men will ever take a penniless bride. You know that, of course, Mrs Levi. My foolish girl got to like him somehow, and she did feel it a cut when he refused to make her his wife. But she'll get over it. Hard work's the best cure for the nonsensical stuff she calls love. I should, indeed, be thankful if Mrs Emmanuel would take her out with the rest, and give her some kind of work to do in her house." " I will speak to Mrs Emmanuel about her, Mrs Cohen. Tell your Leah to come up hero to me to-morrow evening ; I -will then let her know what Mi's Emmanuel says. And so you will reside in future with your brother?" " Yes. My last speculation was most unlucky. I have lost all ; nothing remains for . me but his offer of a shelter and support. My girl he won't take in. He and Solomon Cohen never hit it together, and he dislikes his child as much as he disliked him. He and Solomon did business together at one time, but they had a dispute over some little dealing and never got right again. No, he won't have anything to do with Leah Cohen, so she must turn out and do for herself."

" Well, I will do what I can for her, Mrs Cohen. Poor girl, her troubles have begun early." "We have no daughter of our own, and she will fill the place of one. I hare taken to her immensely. She will relieve me very much, and, at the same time, be a great attraction. She must sign a contract for a certain number of years. And her salary' Jacob, what is it to be?" " She would be cheap at a hundred, Rebecca. We should want her to dress well, and she couldn't do it on less." "You're right, Jacob, a great deal of worry will be taken off my shoulders, and we shall have a fine, handsome, attractive girl aboiut us, for one hundred a year. Aa Mrs Levi says, Leah Cohen is sucli a capable girl. She can turn her hand to anything in a business like ours. If I shouldn't feel well at times she would undertake my duties. I feel that we shall have a treasure in Leah Cohen. She has a strange mother, so unsympathetic. The girl felt Aaron's treatment of her keenly, but the mother

doesn't seem to think much about it. Hej{ only care is to get work for Leah."

"Well. Rebecca, the girl might have; known that he wouldn't marry her withn out a portion. We are not so indiacreefc^ whether we are in love or not." j "He could have dispensed with lien portion ; be is a rich .man, fa MichasJ Aarnji."

"The rich always desire to tie richer,} Rebecca. And why not ? We cannot btj too rich. It is our riches that are givinqj us our flaily increasing influence in EhgJ land. We should be completely croshedj as our people are in- Russia, Austria and( Germany, were it not for our wealth.i Rothschild, Sasson, Rirseh, there are noti more re'spectod names in the world: theifl owners jhave been and are the favourites} of English Royalty. And why, Rebecca IS Because of their wealth. Gold ! Gold ! lij means everything ; ono cannot Lave too) much of it. Aaron is right to seek ifc in! a wife, in a friend, in everyone, in everjj place. Leah Cohen, portionless as she is,; has little or no chance of marriage. How 4 ever, we'll give her work to do, and that'g thfi next best thing to marriage for her^ As you say, Rebecca, she'll be a great s&4 traction in, a business like ours, a hand* some jtjifl always ; is ; and Leah Cohen'sl vei-y' handsome. ' {3be's a sharp girl, too* fit. and all that; she'll earn her wage, I'vfil no doubt." :•■•.. "A hundred a year is little for & climate; like India, Jacob." " Yes, but she'll be glad enough to geij

PART H. FOR GRATITUDE. "And where is Miss Cohen, Airs Wilson^ Has she gone homo to England? I miss he* tremendously. She Avas quite an ornament td the establishment." "Have you not heard, Mr Daver? -It ia.. a most romantic story. She is married.*' " Married ! Well, she is a very beaufr> ful young woman, and any man might h<\ proud, to call her his wife. Who is th^ fortunate >f eilow, Mrs Wilson. ? " "General Sir James M'Phearson.* 7 "Sir James M'Phearson ! Never ! OW M'Pheatsou ! By jove ! That's an as* tounding piece of intelligence. He musl •be near upon s'-xty years of age." "I suppose he is, Mr Daver. But whaft a fine old soldier he is. He must, hava been a remarkably handsome main in his younger days." "Oh, he's a fine old fellow, and a brava soldier — one of our heroes. And so he took a fancy to the lovely Jewess. Strange 1: Well, I almost wish I was he." "It was not a fancy ; <;h do.' He was ac« tuated by gratitude. He -was;- dying." "I don't understand you, Mrs Wilson^ Dyiing of love — was rthat ib? He vr&i rather advanced in years to be attacked iii such a way. Still, I harre heard of octogenarians who were attacked with measles and whooping cough;" "My dear Mr Daver, the , poor General was dying — really dying of a. horrid, liver :| had an abscess on it you know-. All tha doctors gave him up. Hbtos on his way; horne — had come down from. Lahore — whenhe broke his journey here at Bombay: he could not take ship, he was too ill. The Emmanuels were unknown/ to him. Some friends of Iris had stayed bjare once and had ■found it very home-like, .-and Mr aaid Mrs Emmanuel extremely affteative. Like all sick men, specially livery ones, Sir James M'Phearson. had many fancies, and one ws* to be brought to t<bis hoose and. here to re* main until he recovered, or died. Another was that Miss Cohen sbouidi be his nurse.; He conceived a great daslike to all professional nurses, and oniy submitted to one being 1 in attendance as arelief to Miss Cohen-; She is a bom nurse, there is no doubt aboub that: she far surpasses all professionals in [ the sick room. The general wwrid take iis medicine from no other hand. "Miss Cohen's long and imfailittg attea-i ■ tion to him at last told upon Ber healthy and when, the doctors pronounced bis case hopeless, they had another patient in her.Sir James M'Phearson being a strong-minded man, they told him of his approaeh&ig end, that he migiit finally arrange bis affairs., His first thought was how be should prove his gratitude to the girl who had striven sa hard for his recovery. He summoned Mrand Mrs Emmanuel to "his bedside and expressed a wish to mate Miss •Cohen bis wife.As bis widow she would have both position and wealth. He felt that money alone would not sufficiently prove his deep gratitude to her. " Miss Cohen took the advice of all who heard of the proposal. She became Lady M'Phearson at the bed-side of the dying 1 general. The scene was a-vesry affecting one,, I -was one-of the witnesses. From the hour that the marriage ceremony was performed, he grew no worse, but remained' for marry days hi tie same condition — hovering between life and death. At last, strange toi say, there wa-s a- change for the better. Ih seemed as if the vital essence had been renewed. He gradually regained strength, his wife still increasing in her devotion to him. The end of it was, that he completely recovered, and left us in tie highest of spirits, with his beautiful young wife, for: his homo in Scotland."

"Poor Miss Cohen"! She didn't bargain' for the general's recovery, though. It was too had of him. to renew the lease of life lika that."

" Oh, he behaved most generously. Ha proposed that they should separate, if she preferred it, and offered to make her a handsome allowance; but she would not hear of such an arrangement. She liked him, she told him; was attached to him, and would "grojv to love him in time.' It was her turn now to show gratitude for big generosity in raising her from hei humble position to his exalted one. If he considered her competent to fill the position to which he had raised her, then she would never leave Mm, but devote her life to him. He did think her fit to. hold any position, no matter . how exalted.; She was all he could wish her to be, he told her. He was proud of her goodness, her capabilities, and her matchless beauty. He loved her. Is it not a, pretty; story? So romantic! It caused quite a sensation among the Anglo-Indians here at Bombay. The Sassoons called xm Lady. M'Phearson and made a great fuss oi her."

"Ah, yes, the Sassoons — Jews. Bcteg a Jewess, how will Lady MTheasrson ba received in society?" "Very well, of course. Her husband'e name, rank, wealth, and her own stirpassirig loveliness, will be sufficient passport.". "Will not our great ladies slight her, think you?" "If they do, it will be from envy. Buij I predict that she will be taken.- up by Royalty, and then all will be smooth, sailing for her after. I shall not be surprised if she is talked abouf, raved about, written about, and made a society queen." • " You admire her very much, Airs Wilson?"

"I have never seen a more beautiful young woman ; and I , have travelled In many 'lands. But you admire her yourself, do you not?" . " Indeed I do. Her beauty is of a much softer type than that of the Jewess in general. And she seems to bo quite unconscious of her marvellous attractions. She's not a bit vain j at least she wasn't when I was here nine months ago." " You arc right, Mr Dacver; Lady M'Pheiison is no vainer than was Leah Cohen ; that adds to her charm. She is as sweet in disposition as she is beautiful in | person." "As a rule, tho Jewish w-omen -have $

manner that I much object to— so bold and brusque; but Miss Cohen— Lady MPhwirson I mean — is. qiiite different. Were it not for her peculiar style of beauty two would suppose her to' be a Christian."

" imio is most gentle in speech, and graceful m movement, and she really has a, very beautiful voice. Ifc has not been well cultivated, but, no doubt, her husbaud will wish her to study under some good maestro, ohe will puss very well, for she has the good sonso to be sileufc on subjects of which she knows nothing. She is not a great talker ; klio listens "well, and is very observant, nnd will soon acquire, nil the knowleclrro necsK.'wr for a great lndv." " Sir James M'Pheawon is^ rich, I have heard. Succeeded to the title and estates rtbout fifteen years ago, didn't he?" " X 2cs. he succeeded Ins brother, who was childless. The M'Pheanions have not beena spending family • in fact the late baronet was almost a miser, and hoarded up great wealth. I believe Sir ' Jamea is auite the

contrary ; in character lie is more Irish than Scottish; ' being rather too free with his -\vealth. His mother was an Irish lady ■ — one of the Nolans, of Annahmeagle, C4alwav.'-' •'

" Strange, that he didn't marry before noAV. If X don't find a woman who will make me a suitable wife before I have iOTived at his age, I shall remain a bachelor to the end of my days." • " Sir James M'Phearson was a widower. Did you not know that, Mr Daver 1 ? Oh, yes; a widower with one child — n, daughter."

'Indeed! No, I never heard of it. Ah, how will my lady get on with her stepdaughter? • Better it had been a son."

" Lady M'Phearson will not see too much of her step-daughter. She i,s married—Mrs Crawford, of Locblaura." " You do surprise me, Mrs Wilson. Why, I have mat Mm Crawford of Lochlaura In many London drawing-rooms. And she is his daughter? A veiy pretty woman is Mrs Crawford. She is much admired." "She is certainly a pretty; woman, 1 in that yellow-ha-h-ed. p. ; nk-cheel:cd, blueeyed, dolly style; of course, not to be. compared with her -magnificent -stepmother, whose senior in age she is by three of four years." "Well, as yon say, Mrs Wilson, it is a romance, and a very interesting one, too." PART 111. IV SPITE OF CREED A.VI) CASTE. •"She did well for herself, that Leah Cohen, better than if she had married you, Michael Aaron. It was well for her that' you threw her tip. She is handsomer than over, and plays the great lady well, too. baw her at the Synagogue hist Sabbath. iSlie has two children— boy and a girlbeauties." "I saw her myself, and she saw me." '"01 course sue took no notice of you?" "There's where you're mistaken, David. She smiled at mo, and I srar that she loves me as much as ever. It's hard for a girl like that to cure herself oT ' her. love. Sht> loved me to such an extent that I really Hunk, had- she been called upon to do it site would have given up her life to save. mine There's no doubt that she man led that oid chap for- his money." j "' You will hardly like her to know of ' your altered circumstances. She will exult in your failure;." ■ '

"No* she; .she will pity me . Her heart h very , so ft. I shall pitch her an ahectmg story, and so squeeze a little cash out of her. I'll persuade her to make some investments, become her managing man and so right myself again." "You are forgetting, Aaron, that she is of our race, and in all probability as cute as you are yourself. If s he is anything like her mother, whom I detest, she is not wanting in sharpness." "Love- is bliud, David." " You are not a very lovable-looking fellow just now, Aaron. You'vo gone off a bit you 11 alknv; look deuced seedy and k 3 odc übaut, not » niafcoh for my L^y M'Phuar-

"My.soediness will -make no difference to Leali. 1 m Michael Aaron, all tho fain- and I can soon bo put to rights again. ' Sho thinks no 111:1.11 ij! the \v,,,1l l( , lll( . s v ,. ro me I bet. Leave ion name (it, work round .Leah Cohen, and you'll sea something bho 11 put me on my legs again before many nwnths have passed 1 tell you tho ' woman loves me still, and only wimxa n, chance of proving it."

"Don't allow your concsit to h-nl you astray, old fellow. I shouldnt U miite so sure of Lady M'Phearson if I were you. "I know her better than you She's all right. • "Your juvenile garden parties :irs "rent successes, Mrs Lyndhurst. You .-eeni in' gather around you the loveliest, children in Town. Who is that remarkably handwmo boy in crimson velvet, to whom your own dear little son is talking so earnestly ?" " Oh, that is little Sir Archibald Sil'Phearson; utid look ! that fairy child under the trees there is his si&ter. Do you observe her — in pink satin?" " Yes, I do. What v beautiful child !" "They resemble their- mother very much. You know Lady M'Phearson, do you not, Mrs Gonway?" "NoI do not ; but I have often seen her. Who was Lady M'Phearson, Mrs Lyndhurstr " My dear Mrs Conwuy, I am as ignorant on the- subject of Lady M'Phearson as tho rest of the world. There are till sorts of reports, you know, but I really don't think there is much truth in one of them. One is that sha it) tho daughter of a ricli Parsse ; eiuother, that she is the daughter of a Cashmerian prince or chief, whoso life Sir James M'Phearson spared or saved or something of the kind ; another that she was intended for the Sultan's harem, when Sir James Baw her by accident, and purcktsed her from her Circassian parents. Then, again, they say . that she is a Jewess ; and that her father is a- merchant prince of Salonica."

"The latter is the most probable. The lovo of dies* always comes out in the Jew. Do you not think thoso children , overdressed'r" " Well, they are rather much dressed. The boy's rallies are real lace, and the buttons on his silk velvet suit are real diamonds." " Absurd !" > c! And those are real Oriental pearls that apan that little beauty's throat and confine her long black curls. But they are so lovely, thoso little MThearson's, that they can bear more dressing than most other children,'' • " The mother's a great dresser, and v^iy Jewish-like, now I come to tlunk of it.' " The best-dressed woman in London, it is said."' " Well, I've no wish to know her. I dare Bay she was a nobody." "I say, Leah, your youngsters don't s:em to take kindly to inc. How's that?" " Children have their likes and their dislikes, a.-) well as we adults have, Mr Aaron." "None of that 'Mr Aaron.' It's 'Leah' and ' Michael' with us now, as it was long ujjo. There's no need for any ceremony betwiiuii us when we are alone. You must drop the fine lady with me, I shall like you nil Iho better, Leah." " Pardon me, but 1 don't understand what you mean by ' the fine lady.' lam my natural self at all times. I object very much to affectation of any kind." .

"That's all nonsense, Leah. You're not so free as our women ; you're altogether different, and I 'don't think it's* an improvement. If Ave'ro to be anything more to each other, you'd better resume your old manner." " Anything more, to each other! What do you mean?" " I suppose you're goins to be my wife, aren't you? After the way you and I have Leea tulknrl about, the way our names have been coupled together, you can't dp anything else. Como! You don't speak. I'll make v gyod father to the youngsters ; you may rest easy about that. We'd batter settle tlw matter at flfiec, and fix the day. Tlftre's no reason for delay. You've mourned for the old man the regulation period— two ycurs-- twonty-ono months too long. Come. Len.h ; n.imathe dat-c." " First ba so good- as to touch that bell for me. Thank you. Matthew, show this gentleman out. After to-day I am never it home to Mr Aaron."

"I shall remember, my lady." ■{We, of Plwcnix Court, are the first- to an-

nounce the approaching marriage of the Right Hon the Earl of Brinton with Lady M'Phearson, widow of the late General Sir James M'Phearson, Bart., K:C.l?i»