"I shall be grateful for the portrait," said Deronda, "but--I ought to say, I have no assurance that she whom I love will have any love for me. I have kept silence."
"Who and what is she?" said the mother. The question seemed a command.
"She was brought up as a singer for the stage," said Deronda, with inward reluctance. "Her father took her away early from her mother, and her life has been unhappy. She is very young--only twenty. Her father wished to bring her up in disregard--even in dislike of her Jewish origin, but she has clung with all her affection to the memory of her mother and the fellowship of her people."

"I shall be grateful for the portrait," said Deronda, "but I have no assurance that she whom I love will have any love for me. I have kept silence."
"Who and what is she?"
"She was brought up as a singer for the stage," he said reluctantly. "Her father took her away early from her mother, and her life has been unhappy. She is only twenty. Her father wished to bring her up in disregard of her Jewish origin, but she has clung with affection to the memory of her mother and her people."
