father's sake she must not part with the gift which had come to her
from her mother. But now she comforted herself by the reflection that
the necklace would produce for her enough to repay her father that
present from Ziska which she had taken from him. Her father had pleaded
sorely to be allowed to keep the notes. In her emotion at the moment
she had been imperative with him, and her resolution had prevailed. But
she thought of his entreaties as she returned home, and of his poverty
and wants, and she determined that the necklace should go. It would
produce for her at any rate as much as Ziska had given. She wished that
she had brought it with her, as she passed the open door of a certain
pawnbroker, which she had entered often during the last six months, and
whither she intended to take her treasure, so that she might comfort
her father on her return with the sight of the money. But she had it
not, and she went home empty-handed. "And now, Nina, I suppose we may
starve," said her father, whom she found sitting close to the stove in
the kitchen, while Souchey was kneeling before it, putting in at the
little open door morsels of fuel which were lamentably insufficient for
the poor man's purpose of raising a fire. The weather, indeed, was as
yet warm--so warm that in the middle of the day the heat was matter of
complaint to Josef Balatka; but in the evening he would become chill;
and as there existed some small necessity for cooking, he would beg
that he might thus enjoy the warmth of the kitchen.

"Yes, we shall starve now," said Souchey, complacently. "There is not
much doubt about our starving."

"Souchey, I wonder you should speak like that before father," said
Nina.

"And why shouldn't he speak?" said Balatka. "I think he has as much