Part 52 (1/2)

”It's not that. It's the fire. I'm frying fish for _Yomtov_,” she said, with a happy laugh.

”And yet you say you're not a good Jewess,” he laughed back.

”You had no right to come and catch me like this,” she pouted. ”All greasy and dishevelled. I'm not made up to receive visitors.”

”Call me a visitor?” he grumbled. ”Judging by your appearance, I should say you were always made up. Why, you're perfectly radiant.”

Then the talk became less intelligible. The first symptom of returning rationality was her inquiry--

”What sort of a journey did you have back?”

”The sea was rough, but I'm a good sailor.”

”And the poor fellow's father and mother?”

”I wrote you about them.”

”So you did; but only just a line.”

”Oh, don't let us talk about the subject just now, dear, it's too painful. Come, let me kiss that little woe-begone look out of your eyes.

There! Now, another--that was only for the right eye, this is for the left. But where's your mother?”

”Oh, you innocent!” she replied. ”As if you hadn't watched her go out of the house!”

”'Pon my honor, not,” he said smiling. ”Why should I now? Am I not the accepted son-in-law of the house, you silly timid little thing? What a happy thought it was of yours to let the cat out of the bag. Come, let me give you another kiss for it--Oh, I really must. You deserve it, and whatever it costs me you shall be rewarded. There! Now, then! Where's the old man? I have to receive his blessing, I know, and I want to get it over.”

”It's worth having, I can tell you, so speak more respectfully,” said Hannah, more than half in earnest.

”_You_ are the best blessing he can give me--and that's worth--well, I wouldn't venture to price it.”

”It's not your line, eh?”

”I don't know, I have done a good deal in gems; but where _is_ the Rabbi?”

”Up in the bedrooms, gathering the _Chomutz_. You know he won't trust anybody else. He creeps under all the beds, hunting with a candle for stray crumbs, and looks in all the wardrobes and the pockets of all my dresses. Luckily, I don't keep your letters there. I hope he won't set something alight--he did once. And one year--Oh, it was so funny!--after he had ransacked every hole and corner of the house, imagine his horror, in the middle of Pa.s.sover to find a crumb of bread audaciously planted--where do you suppose? In his Pa.s.sover prayer-book!! But, oh!”--with a little scream--”you naughty boy! I quite forgot.” She took him by the shoulders, and peered along his coat. ”Have you brought any crumbs with you? This room's _pesachdik_ already.”

He looked dubious.

She pushed him towards the door. ”Go out and give yourself a good shaking on the door-step, or else we shall have to clean out the room all over again.”

”Don't!” he protested. ”I might shake out that.”

”What?”

”The ring.”

She uttered a little pleased sigh.

”Oh, have you brought that?”

”Yes, I got it while I was away. You know I believe the reason you sent me trooping to the continent in such haste, was you wanted to ensure your engagement ring being 'made in Germany.' It's had a stormy pa.s.sage to England, has that ring, I suppose the advantage of buying rings in Germany is that you're certain not to get Paris diamonds in them, they are so intensely patriotic, the Germans. That was your idea, wasn't it, Hannah?”