Samuel's face was white.

The merry gathering had been turned to a wedding party.
"You rogue!" burst forth Malka at last.

"You planned all this--you thought my Leah didn't have enough money, and that Reb Shemuel will heap you up gold in the hands.

But you don't take me in like this." "May this piece of bread choke me if I had the slightest iota of intention!" cried Samuel passionately, for the thought of what Leah might think was like fire in his veins.

He turned appealingly to the _Maggid_; "but there must be some way out of this, surely there must be some way out.