“But I’m not eager for the match,” said Akyas. “If it happens, so be it, I’ll join in the rejoicing. But I know something of unhappy marriages. Why should I wish such a thing on either my brother Ezbaal or this girl?”

What could this sudden show of sympathy mean? Rebekah continued to hold her tongue, unsure what the others might read into anything she said.

“What is the real issue here, girl?” asked Akyas. “Is it that you simply don’t want to marry at all? Ah, yes—this has to be it—you want us to reject you, but from then on, any man whom your father brings, you’ll compare him to Ezbaal and say, ‘This one is not as good as the first one you brought.’ Until you finally find one that you favor. It gives you an excuse to control your own marriage. Is that it?”

“You give me credit for too much cleverness, and too little wisdom,” said Rebekah. “I trust my father to find a good husband for me. If it be Ezbaal, then I will rejoice. As long as I can continue to worship the Lord God of Abraham, and no other god, I will be content.”

“You will be content,” said the grandmother, “if your husband only beats you once a week. What do you think marriage is?”

“If that is your sad experience,” said Rebekah mildly, “then I hope my marriage will be better than yours.”

Ethah glared at her for a moment, then turned to the other women and smiled pleasantly. “I think,” she said, “that we’ll report that Rebekah is charming and beautiful, but too young for the match. So we’ll betrothe them and take her with us, train her to be a loving wife, and hold the marriage when we find that she is ready.”

“And when will that be?” asked Rebekah.

The old woman smiled beatifically at her. “When you bow your head and speak submissively to your betters.”

“Ah, that’s a relief,” said Rebekah, adopting the same tone of exaggerated cheerfulness. “I feared it would be when I was as hard and withered and bitter as you.”

Ethah clenched her teeth a little, but she maintained her smile. “It will be a pleasure teaching you modesty.”

Rebekah turned to “Mother.” “Did she train you in the way she promises to train me? Is that why you are so fearful, so eager to keep the peace? Did she beat you? Or merely humiliate you into submission?”

“Enough,” said the grandmother. “Whether it’s a careful plot on her part or she’s really as rude and ignorant as she seems, it hardly matters. I won’t have my grandson’s life plagued with a girl like this.”

“The choice is his,” Akyas reminded her. “He has never been ruled by you, or by his mother either.”