might call herself one; but how could she be a Jewess with her strong
faith in St Nicholas, who was the saint of her own Church, and in St
John of the River, and in the Madonna? No; she must be an outcast from
all religions, a Pariah, one devoted absolutely to the everlasting
torments which lie beyond Purgatory--unless, indeed, unless that mild-
eyed Saviour would be content to take her faith and her acts of hidden
worship, despite her aunt, despite that odious nun, and despite the
very priest himself! She did not know how this might be with her, but
she did know that all the teaching of her life was against any such
hope.

But what was--what could be the good of such thoughts to her? Had not
things gone too far with her for such thoughts to be useful? She loved
the Jew, and had told him so; and not all the penalties with which the
priests might threaten her could lessen her love, or make her think of
her safety here or hereafter, as a thing to be compared with her love.
Religion was much to her; the fear of the everlasting wrath of Heaven
was much to her; but love was paramount! What if it were her soul?
Would she not give even her soul for her love, if, for her love's sake,
her soul should be required from her? When she reached the archway, she
had made up her mind that she would tell her aunt first, and that she
would do so early on the following day. Were she to tell her father
first, her father might probably forbid her to speak on the subject to
Madame Zamenoy, thinking that his own eloquence and that of the priest
might prevail to put an end to so terrible an iniquity, and that so
Madame Zamenoy might never learn the tidings. Nina, thinking of all
this, and being quite determined that the Zamenoys should know what
she intended to tell them, resolved that she would say nothing on that
night at home.