Part 86 (2/2)

”What, be your chaperon!” cried Debby in responsive excitement; then her voice dropped again. ”Oh, no, how could I?”

”Yes, yes, you must,” said Esther eagerly.

Debby's obstinate shake of the head repelled the idea. ”I couldn't leave Bobby,” she said. After a pause, she asked timidly: ”Why not stay here?”

”Don't be ridiculous,” Esther answered. Then she examined the bed. ”Two couldn't sleep here,” she said.

”Oh yes, they could,” said Debby, thoughtfully bisecting the blanket with her hand. ”And the bed's quite clean or I wouldn't venture to ask you. Maybe it's not so soft as you've been used to.”

Esther pondered; she was fatigued and she had undergone too many poignant emotions already to relish the hunt for a lodging. It was really lucky this haven offered itself. ”I'll stay for to-night, anyhow,” she announced, while Debby's face lit up as with a bonfire of joy. ”To-morrow we'll discuss matters further. And now, dear, can I help you with your sewing?”

”No, Esther, thank you kindly. You see there's only enough for one,”

said Debby apologetically. ”To-morrow there may be more. Besides you were never as clever with your needle as your pen. You always used to lose marks for needlework, and don't you remember how you herring-boned the tucks of those petticoats instead of feather-st.i.tching them? Ha, ha, ha! I have often laughed at the recollection.”

”Oh, that was only absence of mind,” said Esther, tossing her head in affected indignation. ”If my work isn't good enough for you, I think I'll go down and help Becky with her machine.” She put on her bonnet, and, not without curiosity, descended a flight, of stairs and knocked at a door which, from the steady whirr going on behind it, she judged to be that of the work-room.

”Art thou a man or a woman?” came in Yiddish the well-remembered tones of the valetudinarian lady.

”A woman!” answered Esther in German. She was glad she learned German; it would be the best subst.i.tute for Yiddish in her new-old life.

”_Herein_!” said Mrs. Belcovitch, with sentry-like brevity.

Esther turned the handle, and her surprise was not diminished when she found herself not in the work-room, but in the invalid's bedroom. She almost stumbled over the pail of fresh water, the supply of which was always kept there. A coa.r.s.e bouncing full-figured young woman, with frizzly black hair, paused, with her foot on the treadle of her machine, to stare at the newcomer. Mrs. Belcovitch, attired in a skirt and a night-cap, stopped aghast in the act of combing out her wig, which hung over an edge of the back of a chair, that served as a barber's block.

Like the apple-woman, she fancied the apparition a lady philanthropist--and though she had long ceased to take charity, the old instincts leaped out under the sudden shock.

”Becky, quick rub my leg with liniment, the thick one,” she whispered in Yiddish.

”It's only me, Esther Ansell!” cried the visitor.

”What! Esther!” cried Mrs. Belcovitch. ”_Gott in Himmel!”_ and, throwing down the comb, she fell in excess of emotion upon Esther's neck. ”I have so often wanted to see you,” cried the sickly-looking little woman who hadn't altered a wrinkle. ”Often have I said to my Becky, where is little Esther?--gold one sees and silver one sees, but Esther sees one not. Is it not so, Becky? Oh, how fine you look! Why, I mistook you for a lady! You are married--not? Ah well, you'll find wooers as thick as the street dogs. And how goes it with the father and the family in America?”

”Excellently,” answered Esther. ”How are you, Becky?”

Becky murmured something, and the two young women shook hands. Esther had an olden awe of Becky, and Becky was now a little impressed by Esther.

”I suppose Mr. Weingott is getting a good living now in Manchester?”

Esther remarked cheerfully to Mrs. Belcovitch.

”No, he has a hard struggle,” answered his mother-in-law, ”but I have seven grandchildren, G.o.d be thanked, and I expect an eighth. If my poor lambkin had been alive now, she would have been a great-grandmother. My eldest grandchild, Hertzel, has a talent for the fiddle. A gentleman is paying for his lessons, G.o.d be thanked. I suppose you have heard I won four pounds on the lotter_ee_. You see I have not tried thirty years for nothing! If I only had my health, I should have little to grumble at.

Yes, four pounds, and what think you I have bought with it? You shall see it inside. A cupboard with gla.s.s doors, such as we left behind in Poland, and we have hung the shelves with pink paper and made loops for silver forks to rest in--it makes me feel as if I had just cut off my tresses. But then I look on my Becky and I remember that--go thou inside, Becky, my life! Thou makest it too hard for him. Give him a word while I speak with Esther.”

Becky made a grimace and shrugged her shoulders, but disappeared through the door that led to the real workshop.

”A fine maid!” said the mother, her eyes following the girl with pride.

”No wonder she is so hard to please. She vexes him so that he eats out his heart. He comes every morning with a bag of cakes or an orange or a fat Dutch herring, and now she has moved her machine to my bedroom, where he can't follow her, the unhappy youth.”

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