most holy shame which prompted the son of Noah to cover the nakedness of his father, he motioned to his sister to leave. Then he, too, softly walked out of the room.
Outside, in the corridor, the brother and sister fell into each other's arms. Both wept bitterly: for a long time neither of them could find words in which to express the grief which filled their souls. At length Viola, her head resting upon Ephraim's shoulder, whispered: "Ephraim, what do you think of him?"
"He is ill, I think . . ." said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs.
"What, you call that illness, Ephraim?" Viola cried; "if that's illness, then a wild beast is ill too."
"Viola, for Heaven's sake, be quiet: he's our own father after all!"
"Ephraim!" said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as she again threw herself into her brother's arms . . . "just think if mother had lived to see this!"
"Don't, don't, Viola, my sweet!" Ephraim exclaimed, sobbing convulsively.
"Ephraim!" the girl cried, shaking her head in wild despair, "I don't believe in the Sechûs! When we live to see all this, and our hearts do not break, we lose faith in everything. . . . Ephraim, what is to become of us?"
"Hush, dear Viola, hush, you don't know
