Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this
unhappy father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the
woman who had so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The utterance
of her name, the terror that accompanied the exclamation, denoted the
effect which the girl's sudden appearance had produced upon that sadly
unhinged mind.

"Viola!" Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, "why don't you come
here?"

"I CAN'T, Ephraim, I CAN'T..." she moaned, as, with halting steps, she
walked towards the door.

"Come, speak to him, do," Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in his.

"Let me go!" she cried, trying to release herself ... "I am thinking of
mother!"

Suddenly Ascher rose.

"Where's my stick?" he cried. "I want the stick which I brought with
me...Where is it? I must go."

"Father, you won't..." cried Ephraim.

Then Viola turned round.

"Father," she said, with twitching lips... "you'll want something to eat
before you go."