off; all the members respect him so
much; it isn't often you see a business man with such fear of Heaven.
Wait! my Ezekiel will be _Barmitzvah_ in a few years; then you shall see
what I will do for that _Shool_. You shall see what an example of
_Yiddshkeit_ I will give to a _link_ generation. Mrs. Benjamin, of the
Ruins, purified her knives and forks for Passover by sticking them
between the boards of the floor. Would you believe she didn't make them
red hot first? I gave her a bit of my mind. She said she forgot. But not
she! She's no cat's head. She's a regular Christian, that's what she is.
I shouldn't wonder if she becomes one like that blackguard, David
Brandon; I always told my Milly he was not the sort of person to allow
across the threshold. It was Sam Levine who brought him. You see what
comes of having the son of a proselyte in the family! Some say Reb
Shemuel's daughter narrowly escaped being engaged to him. But that story
has a beard already. I suppose it's the sight of you brings up _Olov
Hashotom_ times. Well, and how _are_ you?" she concluded abruptly,
becoming suddenly conscious of imperfect courtesy.

"Oh, I'm very well, thank you," said Esther.

"Ah, that's right. You're looking very well, _imbeshreer_. Quite a grand
lady. I always knew you'd be one some day. There was your poor mother,
peace be upon him! She went and married your father, though I warned her
he was a _Schnorrer_ and only wanted her because she had a rich family;
he'd have sent you out with matches if I hadn't stopped it. I remember
saying to him, 'That little Esther has Aristotle's head--let her learn
all she can, as sure as I stand here she will grow up to be a lady; I
shall have no need to be ashamed of owning her for a cousin.' He was not
so pig-headed as your mother, and you see the result."

She surveyed the result with an affectionate smile, feeling genuinely
proud of her share in its production. "If my Ezekiel were only a few
years older," she added musingly.

"Oh, but I am not a great lady," said Esther, hastening to disclaim
false pretensions to the hand of the hero of the hoop, "I've left the
Goldsmiths and come back to live in the East End."

"What!" said Malka. "Left the West End!" Her swarthy face grew darker;
the skin about her black eyebrows was wrinkled with wrath.

"Are you _Meshuggah_?" she asked after an awful silence. "Or have you,
perhaps, saved up a tidy sum of money?"

Esther flushed and shook her head.