I feel that now. I never could understand it before."

"There are a great many things that we cannot understand till we feel them,--are there not, David?"

"I suppose so," he said thoughtfully.

Their talk stopped there; and presently the people who had gone out came pouring back. Norton brought a great piece of sponge-cake to Matilda.

"Thank you, Norton, but I'm not hungry, I've just had breakfast a few minutes ago."

"You hadn't time to eat."

"Yes, I had. You spent your time talking, I suppose; you and Mr.

Richmond; that's the reason you are hungry."

Norton sat down and eat his sponge-cake; and spoke no more till the train got in. The carriage was in waiting; took the two boys immediately to school, and carried Matilda and the bags home.

She wondered all day how and when David's disclosure would be made, and how it would be taken at home. She had a good many questions to answer herself, even Judy seeming curious to know what they had been doing and how they had spent the time, and why they had not come home Sat.u.r.day; especially what David had done with himself and why he had taken it into his head to go at all. Matilda declined to enter into any discussion of David's affairs, and left him to speak for himself. But much she wondered how he would, and whether he would, and when he would.

It happened that evening that there was no company, and the family were all gathered together in the little reception room; talking over the children's reports and discussing plans for the coming summer.

Matilda's heart began to beat; for she saw that David was thoughtfully still, and that Norton, in a corner, only talked by jerks, as it were, and sat turning over and over one of his school-books, with an odd air of expectancy. Yes, certainly he knew that David was going to speak, and was waiting for it. Matilda could think of nothing else; her talk all came to an end.

"Norton hasn't much to say to-night," Mrs. Bartholomew remarked. "No more than if he were my boy."

"I haven't anything to talk about," said Norton, looking at nothing but his book.

"Matilda has lost her tongue too," said Judy.

"She never had such a one as yours," replied her grandmother; "you must remember that. It isn't such a loss in the house."

Judy seemed inclined to pout at this; but then her attention was turned to her brother, who began rather suddenly.

"May I speak, grandmamma?"

"I shall be very happy to hear," said Mrs. Lloyd smiling.

"I am not so sure of that," said David; "at least, not of you all; though I really have something to say."

All eyes turned to David. Norton looked up at him from under his brows, with a strange expression of curiosity and displeasure. Matilda only looked away. David hesitated, then went on very calmly and gently.

"You know, mother and grandmother, that I have been very strong in my love for my own people, and very strong in my sympathies with them."

"Is it in the past tense?" asked Mrs. Lloyd.

"And very fixed in my prejudices against what was not Jewish; against what in your beliefs was contrary to mine."

"We all know that," said his mother a little bitterly.

"Is _that_ in the past tense?" demanded Judy.

"I joined with my people in expecting the Messiah and hoping for him."

"Did you?" said his mother.

"I have changed," said David slowly. "I have been studying these things for some time past; I have studied and studied; and now I know. Our Messiah _has_ come; our people did not know him, and--they lost him. I know now that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah."

A scream of startled rage from Judy broke in upon the closing utterances of this speech. She prevented everybody else.

"You do not mean to say that, David Bartholomew!" she exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and standing before him. "You don't mean it."

"Do I ever say what I do not mean, Judy?" he answered gravely.

"Say it again. Say you have left us and gone over to the Christians."

"Judy! are you not ashamed!" cried Mrs. Bartholomew. "What do you think of your mother?"

"Nothing," said Judy. "I'm not talking of you, mamma. You are neither one thing nor the other. You are nothing. _Have_ you gone over, David?"

"You know what I said," her brother answered. "I believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah."

"The Christians' Messiah," said Judy scornfully.

"Theirs and ours," said David sorrowfully. "Messiah ben David, the King of Israel."

"Take that!" said Judy, administering a slap on the cheek which was heartily delivered. "You are a mean good-for-nothing, David Bartholomew! and I wish your name was something else."

All the voices in the room cried out upon Judy except her brother's.

His colour changed, back and forth, but he was silent She stood in the centre of the room like a little fury.

"Judy, Judy! Sit down!" said Mrs. Bartholomew. But it was doubtful if Judy heard.

"What do you think your uncle Solomon and Rabbi Nathan will say to you, you mean boy!" she cried. "I am going straight to tell them."

"I will tell them myself, Judy," said David.

"And what do you think they will say to you, hey? You deserve all you'll get. Ugh! What is a Jew who isn't a Jew any longer?"

"I was going to tell you what I am," said David. "Grandmamma, I had not finished what I had to say to you."

"Let him speak, Judy," said Mrs. Lloyd.

"If the rest is like the beginning, I don't want to hear it," said Judy.

"You need not hear it," said her mother. "Leave the room, then."

"I won't!" said Judy. "There is n.o.body here but me to make him ashamed."

"I wish something would make you ashamed," said her mother. "Judy Bartholomew, hold your tongue. Go on, David."