"Zi," whispered she, indicating the old women by a motion of her head, "what splendid diamonds!"
The wife of the merchant of Wilno half closed her eyes in admiration.
"Aj! Aj!" exclaimed she, "a true treasure. But why does such an old woman wear so many precious stones?"
Saul heard the exclamation, and with dignified civility he said, bending toward his guests:
"She deserves our respect, and to be covered by us with all the precious stones in the possession of our family. She was her husband's crown, and all of us as branches from a tree, take our life from her."
He closed his eyes a little and continued:
"Now she is very old, but she once was young and very beautiful, And where has her beauty disappeared to? It was erased by the years--by months and days passing over her like birds flying one after the other, pick one berry after another, until they have picked them all.
It is true, she has now many wrinkles on her face. But whence come these wrinkles? I know; for looking at her I see some picture in each one. When I look at the wrinkles in her eyelids, and around her eyes, I remember that when I was small, and was ill she sat by my cradle and sang to lull me to sleep, and the tears poured from her eyes. And when I look at the wrinkles so numerous on her cheeks, I remember all the sorrows and griefs she has passed through, when she became a widow, refused to marry again, conducting business affairs personally and increasing the wealth of her children. And when I look at the wrinkle which appears in the middle of her forehead, it seems that I live again the moment that my father's soul left its body, and my mother fell to the floor like one dead. She did not cry nor moan, but only sobbed sweetly, 'Hersh! Hersh! My Hersh!' It was the greatest sorrow of her life, and left on her forehead that deep line."
Thus spoke old Saul, with his index finger raised solemnly and a thoughtful smile on his yellow lips. The women listening to him shook their heads, half sadly, half affirmatively, and looking at each other they repeated softly:
"Hohr! Hohr!" (Listen! Listen!)
Pani Hannah was moved to tears. She dried them with a lace handkerchief which she held in her hand, and stretching this hand toward Saul she said:
"Danke! Danke!" with a smile of gratitude on her lips.
"Danke!" (Thanks!) the majority of those present repeated after her.
Then Pani Hannah's sister, Witebski, and two or three other people not belonging to the family, said in a hushed voice:
"Ein kluger mensch! Ein ehrlicher mensch!" (A clever man! An honest man!)
The filial love and respect manifested by Saul, and his picturesque narrative, made a pleasant impression on all hearts and minds.
Only young Leopold, who until now sat silent and gloomy, or spoke in French with Mera, rose from his chair and went toward the window where Meir stood. Around the sofa a lively conversation had been recommenced by Pani Hannah, who expressed a regret that it was Sabbath, and that there was no piano, for her daughter was thus prevented from playing such music as melted all hearts, and brought before the mind's eye the botanical garden of Wilno, where the band of music played, and different other things which belonged to her lost paradise of civilisation.
The two young men remained completely isolated. No one could hear their conversation. It seemed that Leopold had no intention of starting a conversation with Meir. He went toward the window with quite a different motive, which was betrayed by his taking from his pocket a silver cigarette case. But Meir, when he saw the young man approach him, advanced a few steps. His face beamed with joy.
"I am Meir, Saul's grandson," said he, extending his hand to the guest. "I wish very much to make your acquaintance, to tell you many things, and ask you many things."
Leopold bowed to him elegantly but ceremoniously, and barely touched Meir's warm hand. Meir's eyes, which had been bright with joy, now saddened.
"You don't care to know me," said he, "and I don't wonder at it. You are an educated man, and I--am a simple Jew, who knows the Bible and Talmud well, but nothing more. But listen to me, at any rate! I have thoughts of many things, but they are not yet in order. Perhaps you can tell me how to become wise?"
Leopold listened to these words, vibrating first with youthful enthusiasm, with anxiety in which there was a shade of irony.
"Willingly," said he, "if you wish to learn something from me I will be glad to tell you. Why not? I can tell you many things, sir!"
"Leopold, don't call me 'sir.' It hurts me, for I love you very much."
Leopold was surprised at this simplicity of sentiment.
"I am glad of it!" said he; "but it's the first time we have met."
"It doesn't matter!" exclaimed Meir; "for a long time I have wished to meet such an Israelite as you are, and say to him, as Rabbi Eliezer said to the sage in Jerusalem, 'Let me be your pupil, and be you my teacher.'"
This time surprise was clearly expressed in the face of the young fashionable, and his irony increased. It was evident that he did not at all understand Meir's speech, and that he considered him as being half a savage. Meir, absorbed in his enthusiasm, did not notice the impression he had made.
"Leopold," he began, "how many years did you study in that foreign school?"
"What foreign school?" asked Leopold.
"Nu, in that school where they do not teach Jewish studies."
Leopold understood now. He half closed his eyes, pursed his mouth, and answered:
"Well, I went to the gymnasium for five years."
"Five years!" exclaimed Meir, "then you must be a very learned man, if you have gone to school for such a long time."
"Well," answered the guest, with an indulgent smile, "there are people in the world who are more learned than I."
Meir approached his companion still nearer, and his eyes shone more brightly.
"What do they teach in the school?" he asked.
"Different things."
"What are those different things?"
Leopold, with an ironical smile, began to enumerate all the subjects taught in public schools.
Meir interrupted him, saying with animation:
"And you know all these subjects?"
"Yes, I do," answered the guest.
"And what are you doing now?"
This question was asked with great anxiety, and astounded the good-looking chap.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Nu, I wish to know, I wish to know the thoughts with which these studies have filled your head, and what you are doing in the world."
"What I am doing? I am an official in the office of the governor himself, and I copy important papers."
Meir thought for a while.
"That is not what I wished to know about. You copy those papers for money. Every man must earn. But I wish to know what you think about when you are sometimes alone, and what those thoughts impel you to accomplish in the world."
Leopold opened widely his eyes.