"Anything, everything you wish! But Father, Orion, our faith!--
And then, merciful Saviour, that poor little Katharina!"

"Katharina!" repeated the sick man, and his feeble lips parted in a
compassionate smile. "Our boy and the water--water--you know what I
would say."

Then his eyes began to sparkle more brightly and he said in a low voice,
but still eagerly, as though death were yet far from him:

"My name is George, the son of the Mukaukas; I am the great Mukaukas and
our family--all fine men of a proud race; all: My father, my uncle, our
lost sons, and Orion here--all palms and oaks! And shall a dwarf, a mere
blade of rice be grafted on to the grand old stalwart stock? What would
come of that?--Oh, ho! a miserable little brood! But Paula! The cedar
of Lebanon--Paula; she would give new life to the grand old race."

"But our faith, our faith," moaned Neforis. "And you, Orion, do you even
know what her feeling is towards you?"

"Yes and no. Let that rest for the present," said the youth, who was
deeply moved. "Oh Father! if I only knew that your blessing. . ."

"The Faith, the Faith," interrupted the Mukaukas in a broken voice.

"I will be true to my own!" cried Orion, raising his father's hand to
his lips. "But think, picture to yourself, how Paula and I would reign
in this house, and how another generation would grow up in it worthy of
the great Mukaukas and his ancestors!"