but you should not forget what befits you and your sex."

A deep flush crimsoned Miriam's cheeks; for she felt the sting contained
in this speech with two-fold pain because it was Hosea who dealt the
thrust. How many pangs she had been compelled to endure that day on
account of her sex, and now he, too, made her feel that she was not his
peer because she was a woman. In the presence of the stones Hur had
gathered, and on which her hand now rested, he had appealed to her
verdict, as though she were one of the leaders of the people, and now he
abruptly thrust her, who felt herself inferior to no man in intellect and
talent, back into a woman's narrow sphere.

But he, too, felt his dignity wounded, and her bearing showed him that
this hour would decide whether he or she would have the mastery in their
future union. He stood proudly before her, his mien stern in its
majesty--never before had he seemed so manly, so worthy of admiration.
Yet the desire to battle for her insulted womanly dignity gained
supremacy over every other feeling, and it was she who at last broke the
brief, painful silence that had followed his last words, and with a
composure won only by the exertion of all her strength of will, she
began:

"We have both forgotten what detains us here so late at night. You
wished to confide to me what brings you to your people and to hear, not
what Miriam, the weak woman, but the confidante of the Lord decides."

"I hoped also to hear the voice of the maiden on whose love I rely," he
answered gloomily.

"You shall hear it," she replied quickly, taking her hand from the