Nina Balatka | Page 9

and there was but one small
lamp of oil upon the table. But yet Nina loved the room, and as she sat
there waiting for her lover, she wished that it had been her lot to have
been born a Jewess. Only, had that been so, her hair might perhaps
have been black, and her eyes dark, and Anton would not have liked
her. She put her hand up for a moment to her rich brown tresses, and
felt them as she took joy in thinking that Anton Trendellsohn loved to
look upon fair beauty.
After a short while Anton Trendellsohn came down. To those who
know the outward types of his race there could be no doubt that Anton
Trendellsohn was a very Jew among Jews. He was certainly a
handsome man, not now very young, having reached some year
certainly in advance of thirty, and his face was full of intellect. He was
slightly made, below the middle height, but was well made in every
limb, with small feet and hands, and small ears, and a well-turned neck.
He was very dark--dark as a man can be, and yet show no sign of
colour in his blood. No white man could be more dark and swarthy than
Anton Trendellsohn. His eyes, however, which were quite black, were
very bright. His jet-black hair, as it clustered round his ears, had in it
something of a curl. Had it been allowed to grow, it would almost have
hung in ringlets; but it was worn very short, as though its owner were
jealous even of the curl. Anton Trendellsohn was decidedly a handsome
man; but his eyes were somewhat too close together in his face, and the
bridge of his aquiline nose was not sharply cut, as is mostly the case
with such a nose on a Christian face. The olive oval face was without
doubt the face of a Jew, and the mouth was greedy, and the teeth were
perfect and bright, and the movement of the man's body was the
movement of a Jew. But not the less on that account had he behaved

with Christian forbearance to his Christian debtor, Josef Balatka, and
with Christian chivalry to Balatka's daughter, till that chivalry had
turned itself into love.
"Nina," he said, putting out his hand, and holding hers as he spoke, "I
hardly expected you this evening; but I am glad to see you--very glad."
"I hope I am not troubling you, Anton?"
"How can you trouble me? The sun does not trouble us when we want
light and heat."
"Can I give you light and heat?"
"The light and heat I love best, Nina."
"If I thought that--if I could really think that--I would be happy still,
and would mind nothing."
"And what is it you do mind?"
"There are things to trouble us, of course. When aunt Sophie says that
all of us have our troubles--even she--I suppose that even she speaks
the truth."
"Your aunt Sophie is a fool."
"I should not mind if she were only a fool. But a fool can sometimes be
right."
"And she has been scolding you because--you--prefer a Jew to a
Christian."
"No--not yet, Anton. She does not know it yet; but she must know it."
"Sit down, Nina." He was still holding her by the hand; and now, as he
spoke, he led her to a sofa which stood between the two windows.
There he seated her, and sat by her side, still holding her hand in his.
"Yes," he said, "she must know it of course--when the time comes; and

if she guesses it before, you must put up with her guesses. A few sharp
words from a foolish woman will not frighten you, I hope."
"No words will frighten me out of my love, if you mean that--neither
words nor anything else."
"I believe you. You are brave, Nina. I know that. Though you will cry
if one but frowns at you, yet you are brave."
"Do not you frown at me, Anton."
"I am one of those that do frown at times, I suppose; but I will be true
to you, Nina, if you will be true to me."
"I will be true to you--true as the sun."
As she made her promise she turned her sweet face up to his, and he
leaned over her, and kissed her.
"And what is it that has disturbed you now, Nina? What has Madame
Zamenoy said to you?"
"She has said nothing--as yet. She suspects nothing--as yet."
"Then let her remain as she is."
"But, Anton, Souchey knows, and he will talk."
"Souchey! And do you care for that?"
"I care for nothing--for nothing; for nothing, that is, in the way of
preventing me. Do what they will, they cannot