THE giant clock on the wall in the assembly-room of Madam Truxton's
fashionable school had marked the hour for dismission.

Groups of restless, anxious pupils stood about the apartment, or
were gathered at the windows, watching the rain that had been
falling in copious showers since morning. All were eager to go, yet
none dared brave the storm.

Under the stone archway of the entrance to the assembly-hall, a
group of four maidens stood chatting, apart from the rest, watching
the rain, and impatient for its cessation.

"I know my father will either send my brother, or come for me
himself," said Helen Le Grande, "so I need not fear the rain." Then,
turning to the soft-eyed Jewess who stood by her side, she added,
"When the carriage comes, Leah, you can take a seat with me. I'll
see that you are safely deposited at home."

"Thank you, Helen, but it won't hurt me to walk. Nothing hurts
me--Leah Mordecai the despised." Then, averting her face, the young
girl gazed abstractedly into the street, and began humming in a low
tone.

To these words of the young Jewess there was no reply. A certain
sort of emphasis in her utterance seemed to forbid any inquiry, and
silence any word of censure that might arise to the lips of her