excellent character and business qualifications, and appreciating
the connection with the rabbi's family. Mark himself appears happy
in the hope of securing Sarah for his wife. But as to Sarah, I can
scarcely divine her feelings; she is too young and light-hearted
fully to comprehend the step before her. She seems delighted with
the occasion that bestows upon her so many handsome presents; and
beyond this I think she scarcely casts a thought. The marriage will
be solemnized at the synagogue, and the reception held here at home.
Mark has given Sarah some elegant gifts, gifts that should be mine.
Is it wrong to write those words--words that contain so much
meaning? It may be; but as you know all, dear Lizzie, I shall not
erase them. And this reminds me of something I must tell you, of
another piece of double-dealing and treachery imposed upon me by
Rebecca. Some weeks ago, my father's cousin, Baron von Rosenberg,
hearing of Sarah's approaching marriage-I have told you of this
cousin before-sent over a box of valuable presents for the children,
all of us, including Sarah, of course. Among the articles sent, were
an elegant crimson velvet mantle, and a diamond brooch. 'These,'
wrote the baron, 'are for your eldest daughter-Leah I believe.'

"My father gave the letter to his wife, supposing, of course, that I
would be allowed a perusal of it. But instead she secreted the
letter, and in disposing of the gifts, said to me 'Here, Leah, is a
handsome necklace, sent to you by the baron, and this elegant velvet
mantle and diamond brooch are for your sister Sarah-wedding
presents. How kind of the baron to remember her so substantially!'
'Yes,' said I, 'it was kind, and thoughtful too. I am glad that he
has been so generous. I certainly thank him for his remembrance of
me.' I had no dream but that she was telling me the truth, nor
should I have suspected the deception, but, unfortunately, I