"A gentleman below says he is your father, miss."
"I will go down to him," said Mirah, starting up immediately and looking at her brother.
"No, Mirah, not so," said Ezra, with decision. "Let him come up, Mrs. Adam."
Mirah stood with her hands pinching each other, and feeling sick with anxiety, while she continued looking at Ezra, who had also risen, and was evidently much shaken. But there was an expression in his face which she had never seen before; his brow was knit, his lips seemed hardened with the same severity that gleamed from his eye.
When Mrs. Adam opened the door to let in the father, she could not help casting a look at the group, and after glancing from the younger man to the elder, said to herself as she closed the door, "Father, sure enough." The likeness was that of outline, which is always most striking at the first moment; the expression had been wrought into the strongest contrasts by such hidden or inconspicuous differences as can make the genius of a Cromwell within the outward type of a father who was no more than a respectable parishioner.
Lapidoth had put on a melancholy expression beforehand, but there was some real wincing in his frame as he said,
"Well, Ezra, my boy, you hardly know me after so many years."

"A gentleman below says he is your father, miss."
"I will go down to him," said Mirah, starting up immediately.
"No, Mirah, not so," said Ezra, with decision. "Let him come up."
Mirah stood, feeling sick with anxiety. Ezra had also risen, evidently much shaken. But there was a severe expression in his face which she had never seen before.
Mrs Adam brought up Lapidoth. He had put on a melancholy expression, but there was some real wincing in his frame as he said-
"Well, Ezra, my boy, you hardly know me after so many years."
