Part 37 (1/2)
”As if Daniel would marry into a miserable family like that!”
”It is as good as ours,” said Mendel, with white lips.
His daughter looked at him astonished. ”I thought your children had taught you more self-respect than that,” she said quietly. ”Mr. Sugarman is a nice person to be related to!”
”At home, Mrs. Sugarman's family was highly respected,” quavered old Hyams.
”We are not at home now,” said Miriam witheringly. ”We're in England. A bad-tempered old hag!”
”That is what she thinks me,” thought Mrs. Hyams. But she said nothing.
”Did you not see Daniel with her at the ball?” said Mr. Hyams, still visibly disquieted.
”I'm sure I didn't notice,” Miriam replied petulantly. ”I think you must have forgot the sugar, mother, or else the tea is viler than usual. Why don't you let Jane cut the bread and b.u.t.ter instead of lazing in the kitchen?”
”Jane has been was.h.i.+ng all day in the scullery,” said Mrs. Hyams apologetically.
”H'm!” snapped Miriam, her pretty face looking peevish and careworn.
”Jane ought to have to manage sixty-three girls whose ignorant parents let them run wild at home, and haven't the least idea of discipline. As for this chit of a Sugarman, don't you know that Jews always engage every fellow and girl that look at each other across the street, and make fun of them and discuss their united prospects before they are even introduced to each other.”
She finished her tea, changed her dress and went off to the theatre with a girl-friend. The really hara.s.sing nature of her work called for some such recreation. Daniel came in a little after she had gone out, and ate his supper, which was his dinner saved for him and warmed up in the oven. Mendel sat studying from an unwieldy folio which he held on his lap by the fireside and bent over. When Daniel had done supper and was standing yawning and stretching himself, Mendel said suddenly as if trying to bluff him:
”Why don't you ask your father to wish you _Mazzoltov_?”
”_Mazzoltov_? What for?” asked Daniel puzzled.
”On your engagement.”
”My engagement!” repeated Daniel, his heart thumping against his ribs.
”Yes--to Bessie Sugarman.”
Mendel's eye, fixed scrutinizingly on his boy's face, saw it pa.s.s from white to red and from red to white. Daniel caught hold of the mantel as if to steady himself.
”But it is a lie!” he cried hotly. ”Who told you that?”
”No one; a man hinted as much.”
”But I haven't even been in her company.”
”Yes--at the Purim Ball.”
Daniel bit his lip.
”d.a.m.ned gossips!” he cried. ”I'll never speak to the girl again.”
There was a tense silence for a few seconds, then old Hyams said:
”Why not? You love her.”
Daniel stared at him, his heart palpitating painfully. The blood in his ears throbbed mad sweet music.