There was, however, that Madame Zamenoy, her aunt--her aunt with the bitter tongue; and there was Ziska Zamenoy, her cousin--her rich and handsome cousin, who would so soon declare himself willing to become more than cousin, if Nina would but give him one nod of encouragement, or half a smile of welcome.

But Nina hated her Christian lover, cousin though he was, as warmly as she loved the Jew.

Nina, indeed, loved none of the Zamenoys-- neither her cousin Ziska, nor her very Christian aunt Sophie with the bitter tongue, nor her prosperous, money-loving, acutely mercantile uncle Karil; but, nevertheless, she was in some degree so subject to them, that she knew that she was bound to tell them what path in life she meant to tread.

Madame Zamenoy had offered to take her niece to the prosperous house in the Windberg-gasse when the old house in the Kleinseite had become poor and desolate; and though this generous offer had been most fatuously declined--most wickedly declined, as aunt Sophie used to declare--nevertheless other favours had been vouchsafed; and other favours had been accepted, with sore injury to Nina's pride.
As she thought of this, standing in the gloom of the evening under the archway, she remembered that the very frock she wore had been sent to her by her aunt.

But I in spite of the bitter tongue, and in spite of Ziska's derision, she would tell her tale, and would tell it soon.