Early in the following year, while the ground was yet bound with frost, and the great plains of Bohemia were still covered with snow, a Jew and his wife took their leave of Prague, and started for one of the great cities of the west. They carried with them but little of the outward signs of wealth, and but few of those appurtenances of comfort which generally fall to the lot of brides among the rich; the man, however, was well to do in the world, and was one who was not likely to bring his wife to want. It need hardly be said that Anton Trendellsohn was the man, and that Nina Balatka was his wife.

On the eve of their departure, Nina and her friend the Jewess had said farewell to each other. “You will write to me from Frankfort?” said Rebecca.

“Indeed I will,” said Nina; “and you, you will write to me often, very often?”

As often as you will wish it.”

“I shall wish it always,” said Nina; and you can write; you are clever. You know how to make your words say what there is in your heart.”

“But you have been able to make your face more eloquent than any words.”

“Rebecca, dear Rebecca! Why was it that he did not love such a one as you rather than me? You are more beautiful.”

“But he at least has not thought so.”

“And you are so clever and so good; and you could have given him help which I never can give him.”

“He does not want help. He wants to have by his side a sweet soft nature that can refresh him by its contrast to his own. He has done right to love you, and to make you his wife; only, I could wish that you were as we are in religion.” To this Nina made no answer. She could not promise that she would change her religion, but she thought that she would endeavour to do so. She would do so if the saints would let her. “I am glad you are going away, Nina,” continued Rebecca. “It will be better for him and better for you.”

“Yes, it will be better.”

“And it will be better for me also.” Then Nina threw herself on Rebecca’s neck and wept. She could say nothing in words in answer to that last assertion. If Rebecca really loved the man who was now the husband of another, of course it would be better that they should be apart. But Nina, who knew herself to be weak, could not understand that Rebecca, who was so strong, should have loved as she had loved.

“If you have daughters,” said Rebecca, “and if he will let you name one of them after me, I shall be glad.” Nina swore that if God gave her such a treasure as a daughter, that child should be named after the friend who had been so good to her.

There were also a few words of parting between Anton Trendellsohn and the girl who had been brought up to believe that she was to be his wife; but though there was friendship in them, there was not much of tenderness. “I hope you will prosper where you are going,” said Rebecca, as she gave the man her hand.

“I do not fear but that I shall prosper, Rebecca.”

“No; you will become rich, and perhaps great — as great, that is, as we Jews can make ourselves.”

“I hope you will live to hear that the Jews are not crushed elsewhere as they are here in Prague.”

“But, Anton, you will not cease to love the old city where your fathers and friends have lived so long?”

“I will never cease to love those, at least, whom I leave behind me. Farewell, Rebecca;” and he attempted to draw her to him as though he would kiss her. But she withdrew from him, very quietly, with no mark of anger, with no ostentation of refusal. “Farewell,” she said. “Perhaps we shall see each other after many years.”

Trendellsohn, as he sat beside his young wife in the post-carriage which took them out of the city, was silent till he had come nearly to the outskirts of the town; and then he spoke. “Nina,” he said, “I am leaving behind me, and for ever, much that I love well.”

“And it is for my sake,” she said. “I feel it daily, hourly. It makes me almost wish that you had not loved me.”

“But I take with me that which I love infinitely better than all that Prague contains. I will not, therefore, allow myself a regret. Though I should never see the old city again, I will always look upon my going as a good thing done.” Nina could only answer him by caressing his hand, and by making internal oaths that her very best should be done in every moment of her life to make him contented with the lot he had chosen.

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