“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, God 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, God 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 glass 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.”

“Who is it now?” inquired Esther in amusement.

“Shosshi Shmendrik.”

“Shosshi Shmendrik!  Wasn’t that the young man who married the Widow Finkelstein?”

“Yes—­a very honorable and seemly youth.  But she preferred her first husband,” said Mrs. Belcovitch laughing, “and followed him only four years after Shosshi’s marriage.  Shosshi has now all her money—­a very seemly and honorable youth.”

“But will it come to anything?”

“It is already settled.  Becky gave in two days ago.  After all, she will not always be young.  The Tanaim will be held next Sunday.  Perhaps you would like to come and see the betrothal contract signed.  The Kovna Maggid will be here, and there will be rum and cakes to the heart’s desire.  Becky has Shosshi in great affection; they are just suited.  Only she likes to tease, poor little thing.  And then she is so shy.  Go in and see them, and the cupboard with glass doors.”

Esther pushed open the door, and Mrs. Belcovitch resumed her loving manipulation of the wig.