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Updated: June 22, 2025
And when it is well with the children, it is the Sechus of a mother which has caused them to prosper, and when evil days befall them ... it is again the Angel who stands before God and pleads: 'Dost Thou forget that these children no longer have a mother?... and the evil is averted. ..." Gudule's voice had sunk to a mere whisper.
Gudule's Cathedral. Her eyes, which he watched intently, were constantly turned toward the great personages whose presence adorned the festival the Emperor and Queen Mary of Hungary.
Ascher had uttered no untruth when he gave his father-in-law this assurance. He spoke in all earnestness, for like every one else he knew the magnetic power of Gudule's eyes. Nowhere, probably, does the grim, consuming pestilence of gaming claim more victims than in the Ghetto.
Gudule's and anything you ask is yours. I implore you to be generous. Think, Monsieur, think what this means to us!" she said, desperately. "I am not at liberty to dictate terms, Madame. It is only my duty to carry out my part of the transaction; another will make terms with you." "But when? When? We cannot be delayed a moment longer.
There ... put the money away... oats haven't fetched any price at all to-day, 'tis true; but for the sake of Gudule's children, I don't mind what I do... Come, put it away, Ephraim... and may God bless you, and make you prosper." "Uncle!" cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer's hand to his lips, "is all this to be mine? All this?"
Once even it happened, that with his clothes covered with dust, he came home from one of his business tours on a Sabbath morning, when the people in holiday attire were wending their way to the synagogue. Nevertheless, not a sound of complaint escaped Gudule's lips.
How different would have been their thoughts had they known that the children were Gudule's sole comfort. What their father had never heard from her, she poured into their youthful souls.
After Gudule's death, her eldest brother, the then owner of the grange, came over to discuss the future of his sister's children. He wished Ephraim and Viola to go with him to his home in Lower Bohemia, where he could find them occupation. The children, however, were opposed to the idea.
Gudule's belfry towers; and at the top of it entered a little chamber in the roof, where one square unglazed hole that served for light looked out upon the canal, with all its crowded craft, from the dainty schooner yacht, fresh as gilding and holystone could make her, that was running for pleasure to the Scheldt, to the rude, clumsy coal barge, black as night, that bore the rough diamonds of Belgium to the snow-buried roofs of Christiania and Stromstad.
They did not associate with the youth of the Ghetto; it seemed as though they were not of their kind, as though an insurmountable barrier divided them. And many a bitter sneer was hurled at Gudule's head. "Does she imagine," she often heard people whisper, "that because her father was a farmer her children are princes? Let her remember that her husband is but a common gambler."
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