elf shortly went the way of
all Henry Elkman's wives, though whether she, like the rest, had a
successor, is unknown.

The sudden change from a lone old lady to a mater-familias was not,
however, so charming as Natalya had imagined. The cost of putting
Daisy out to nurse was a terrible tax, but this was nothing compared
to the tax on her temper levied by her legitimate grandchildren, who
began to grumble on the first night at the poverty and pokiness of the
garret, and were thenceforward never without a lament for the good old
times. They had, indeed, been thoroughly spoilt by the father and the
irregular menage. The Christian wife's influence had been refining but
too temporary. It had been only long enough to wean Joseph from the
religious burdens indoctrinated by Fanny, and thus to add to the
grandmother's difficulties in coaxing him back to the yoke of piety.

The only sweet in Natalya's cup turned out to be the love of little
Daisy, who grew ever more beautiful, gracious, and winning.

Natalya had never known so lovable a child. All Daisy did seemed to
her perfect. For instant obedience and instant comprehension she
declared her matchless.

One day, when Daisy was three, the child told the grandmother that in
her momentary absence Becky had pulled Joseph's hair.

'Hush! You mustn't tell tales,' Natalya said reprovingly.

'Becky did not pull Joey's hair,' Daisy corrected herself instantly.

Much to the disgust of Becky, who wished to outgrow the Ghetto, even
while she unconsciously manifested its worst heritages, Daisy picked
up the Yiddish words and phrases, which, in spite of Becky's
remonstrances, Natalya was too old to give up. This was not the only
subject of dispute between Becky and the grandmother, whom she roundly
accused of favouritism of Daisy, and she had not reached fifteen when,
with an independence otherwise praiseworthy, she set up for herself on
her earnings in the fur establishment of her second step-mother's
father, lodging with a family who, she said, bored her less than her
grandmother.

In another year or so, freed from the compulsory education of the
School Board, Joseph joined her. And thus, by the unforeseen turns of
Fortune's wheel, the old-clo' woman of seventy-five was left alone
with the child of seven.

But this child was compensation for all she had undergone, for all
the years of trudging and grubbing and patching and turning. Daisy
threaded her needle for her at night when