"There's no use coming to me. I'm not a rich woman, far from it; and I
have been blessed with _Kinder_ who are helpless without me. It's as I
always said to your father. 'Meshe,' I said, 'you're a _Schnorrer_ and
your children'll grow up _Schnorrers_.'"

Esther turned white, but the dwindling of Malka's semi-divinity had
diminished the old woman's power of annoying her.

"I want to earn my own living," she said, with a smile that was almost
contemptuous. "Do you call that being a _Schnorrer_?"

"Don't argue with me. You're just like your poor mother, peace be upon
him!" cried the irate old woman. "You God's fool! You were provided for
in life and you have no right to come upon the family."

"But isn't it _Schnorring_ to be dependent on strangers?" inquired
Esther with bitter amusement.

"Don't stand there with your impudence-face!" cried Malka, her eyes
blazing fire. "You know as well as I do that a _Schnorrer_ is a person
you give sixpences to. When a rich family takes in a motherless girl
like you and clothes her and feeds her, why it's mocking Heaven to run
away and want to earn your own living. Earn your living. Pooh! What
living can you earn, you with your gloves? You're all by yourself in the
world now; your father can't help you any more. He did enough for you
when you were little, keeping you at school when you ought to have been
out selling matches. You'll starve and come to me, that's what you'll
do."

"I may starve, but I'll never come to you," said Esther, now really
irritated by the truth in Malka's words. What living, indeed, could she
earn! She turned her back haughtily on the old woman; not without a
recollection of a similar scene in her childhood. History was repeating
itself on a smaller scale than seemed consistent with its dignity. When
she got outside she saw Milly in conversation with a young lady at the
door of her little house, diagonally opposite. Milly had noticed the
strange visitor to her mother, for the rival camps carried on a system
of espionage from behind their respective gauze blinds, and she had come
to the door to catch a better glimpse of her when she left. Esther was
passing through Zachariah Square without any intention of recognizing
Milly. The daughter's flaccid personality was not so attractive as the
mother's; besides, a visit to her might be construed into a mean revenge
on the old woman. But, as if in response to a remark of Milly's, the
young lady turned her face to