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Book, page 191 / 508 Harrington," addressing himself to me, "that your love and duty are not at variance: I have tried you to the utmost, and am satisfied both of the steadiness of your principles and of the strength of your attachment to my daughter--Berenice is not a Jewess." "Not a Jewess!" cried my father, starting from his spat: "Not a Jewess! Then my Jupiter Ammon may go to the devil! Not a Jewess!--give you joy, Harrington, my boy!--give me joy, my dear Mrs. Harrington--give me joy, excellent--(_Jew_, he was on the point of saying) excellent Mr. Montenero; but, is not she your daughter?" "She is, I hope and believe, my daughter," said Mr. Montenero smiling; "but her mother was a Christian; and according to my promise to Mrs. Montenero, Berenice has been bred in her faith--a Christian--a Protestant." "A Christian! a Protestant!" repeated my father. "An English Protestant: her mother was daughter of--" "An English Protestant!" interrupted my father, "English! English! Do you hear that, Mrs. Harrington?" "Thank Heaven! I do hear it, my dear," said my mother. "But, Mr. Montenero, we interrupt--daughter of--?" "Daughter of an English gentleman, of good family, who accompanied one of your ambassadors to Spain." "Of good family, Mr. Harrington," said my mother, raising her head proudly as she looked at me with a radiant countenance: "I knew she was of a good family from the first moment I saw her at the play--so different from the people she was with--even Lady de Brantefield asked who she was. From the first moment I thought--" "You thought, Mrs. Harrington," interposed my father, "you thought, to be sure, that Miss Montenero _looked like a Christian_. Yes, yes; and no doubt you had _presentiments_ plenty." "Granted, granted, my dear; but don't let us say any more about them now."
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