"Well, well, we must have patience," was the rejoinder. "She is
young--impulsive (I wish she were more like you, Evelyn, my dear!), her
mother over again in temperament, without the saving clauses of beauty
and refinement; these she will never attain, I fear, and with much of
the characteristic persistence of that singular race, which in my wife,
however, I never detected, though so much nearer the fountain-head!"
This was said half in soliloquy, but Evelyn replied to it as if it had
been addressed to her--replied, as she often did, by an interrogatory.
"What tribe did her mother belong to, papa?"
"The tribe of Judah, I believe, my love, was that her family traced
their lineage from; but you question as if it were Pocahontas there was
reference to instead of a high-bred Jewish lady!" speaking with
asperity.
"I meant no offence, papa, I assure you," said Evelyn, quietly; "I only
asked for information. Certainly there _is_ something very grand in
being related to King David."
"There is, indeed," said a gentle voice close at hand. Miss Glen had
entered silently as they were speaking. "There was genius in that
strain of blood, Evelyn, nay, more, divinity. Christ claimed such
descent. Let us never forget that! He, the universal brother." She spoke
with feeling and dignity, and led me away, lecturing me greatly as she
did so for not obeying Mrs.
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