“No, they both died when I was a child,” said David, becoming serious.

“I thought so!” said Reb Shemuel.  “Fortunately my Hannah’s didn’t.”  He smiled at the humor of the phrase and Hannah took his hand and pressed it tenderly.  “Ah, it will be all right,” said the Reb with a characteristic burst of optimism.  “God is good.  You have a sound Jewish heart at bottom, David, my son.  Hannah, get the Yomtovdik wine.  We will drink, a glass for Mazzoltov, and I hope your mother will be back in time to join in.”

Hannah ran into the kitchen feeling happier than she had ever been in her life.  She wept a little and laughed a little, and loitered a little to recover her composure and allow the two men to get to know each other a little.

“How is your Hannah’s late husband?” inquired the Reb with almost a wink, for everything combined to make him jolly as a sandboy.  “I understand he is a friend of yours.”

“We used to be schoolboys together, that is all.  Though strangely enough I just spent an hour with him.  He is very well,” answered David smiling.  “He is about to marry again.”

“His first love of course,” said the Reb.

“Yes, people always come back to that,” said David laughing.

“That’s right, that’s right,” said the Reb.  “I am glad there was no unpleasantness.”

“Unpleasantness.  No, how could there be?  Leah knew it was only a joke.  All’s well that ends well, and we may perhaps all get married on the same day and risk another mix-up.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!”

“Is it your wish to marry soon, then?”

“Yes; there are too many long engagements among our people.  They often go off.”

“Then I suppose you have the means?”

“Oh yes, I can show you my—­”

The old man waved his hand.

“I don’t want to see anything.  My girl must be supported decently—­that is all I ask.  What do you do for a living?”

“I have made a little money at the Cape and now I think of going into business.”

“What business?”

“I haven’t settled.”

“You won’t open on Shabbos?” said the Reb anxiously.

David hesitated a second.  In some business, Saturday is the best day.  Still he felt that he was not quite radical enough to break the Sabbath deliberately, and since he had contemplated settling down, his religion had become rather more real to him.  Besides he must sacrifice something for Hannah’s sake.

“Have no fear, sir,” he said cheerfully.

Reb Shemuel gripped his hand in grateful silence.

“You mustn’t think me quite a lost soul,” pursued David after a moment of emotion.  “You don’t remember me, but I had lots of blessings and halfpence from you when I was a lad.  I dare say I valued the latter more in those days.”  He smiled to hide his emotion.

Reb Shemuel was beaming.  “Did you, really?” he inquired.  “I don’t remember you.  But then I have blessed so many little children.  Of course you’ll come to the Seder to-morrow evening and taste some of Hannah’s cookery.  You’re one of the family now, you know.”