THE ACME FURNISHING CO.
“I think you are the most ungrateful and undutiful child,” said Mrs.
Friedberg, surveying her youngest daughter with keen disapproval. “Your
Pa and I have done our very best for you ever since you were born; and
now that we are anxious to get you settled, you behave just like a silly
schoolgirl, doing your utmost to thwart our wishes. It’s all the fault
of those penny novelettes you’ve been reading. Now, remember this: I
forbid you to bring any more of those trashy things into the house; and
every one I find I’ll burn. Do you hear?”
Dinah stared back sullenly. “Yes, I hear,” she retorted pertly. “I
should be deaf if I didn’t. You talk loud enough, anyhow, ma.”
Then she sat down at the table, and went on with her interrupted letter
to David Salmon, which had been the cause of her mother’s outburst of
wrath. It really was most annoying from Mrs. Friedberg’s point of view.
The Rev. Isaac Abrahams had found a very nice man possessing the
necessary qualifications for a _chosan_;[20] and Dinah, taking a
foolish dislike to him at their first meeting, refused point-blank to
have anything to do with him, scarcely treating him with civility.
Moreover, she declared her intention of marrying David Salmon or nobody:
and as David earned barely sufficient to gratify his extravagant tastes,
much less keep a wife, such a decision was ridiculous in the extreme.
“What fault have you to find with Mr. Finkelstein?” her mother asked in
exasperation. “He may not be good-looking, but looks are not everything.
He’s got a good business, which is the chief thing, and I’m sure he is a
very amiable sort of fellow. Girls are so particular nowadays. I suppose
you would prefer one of those penny-novelette young men, with blue eyes
and a curly moustache, eh?”
Dinah shrugged her shoulders. “I won’t consent to marry a man I couldn’t
kiss,” she jerked out, nibbling the end of her pen.
“What nonsense!” rejoined Mrs. Friedberg, smiling in spite of herself.
“I have never heard of such a thing. Besides, if it comes to that, I see
no reason why you should not kiss Mr. Finkelstein.”
The girl made a grimace, and shuddered. “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Fancy
kissing _that_! Why, he’s got a beard like a door-mat. He looks as
though a visit to the Hampstead swimming-baths wouldn’t do him any harm,
either. There is too much of the _Schneider-how-ye-vas?_ about him for
me, thank you, Ma. You can tell him that I am already engaged.”
“But you are not already engaged,” her mother rejoined with anger. “A
girl is not engaged until she has the ring. I wish you would have done
with this nonsense, Dinah. You cannot marry David while he is in his
present position; and you are not going to waste the best years of your
youth in waiting for him. So understand that.”
Dinah went on writing in silence, knowing that words were useless in the
present instance. When her mother had gone out of the room she produced
a small case from her pocket, and, opening it, disclosed a pretty pearl
and diamond ring, which she slipped on her finger. It was not half as
valuable as Celia’s had been, but Dinah was quite satisfied with it, and
wore it with a sense of proud possession. Her lover was at present away
on business in the north of England, but she heard from him nearly every
day. He always addressed his letters to the care of the Brookes, next
door--Harold very kindly handing them to her over the garden-wall,--so
her mother had not the slightest idea that the two refractory young
people were carrying on such an ardent correspondence.
As soon as his engagement with Celia Franks was broken off, David had
gone to Dinah for consolation; and the merry dark-eyed girl had
responded to his attentions with a spontaneity that was quite
refreshing. She had always been fond of him, even when she had snubbed
him so cruelly, and, now that he was free, she did not hesitate to tell
him so.
Before he went away, he proposed to her, and gave her the ring; but on
account of the opposition of her parents, they decided to keep their
engagement strictly private for the present. Dinah, however, was not
quite happy about it. The prospect of being engaged for an indefinite
period did not please her--it was too vague. One thing was certain, they
could not get married without Mr. and Mrs. Friedberg’s consent, for to
do so would mean the loss of the dowry and wedding-presents. It was a
very mundane reason; but it had to be considered, for they could not
possibly afford to dispense with such matrimonial perquisites.
Whilst David was away, Dinah was struck with an idea. She would try to
enlist the sympathy of her brother-in-law, Mike Rosen, who was her
lover’s employer, and see what good that would do. So she waited for an
opportunity; and one morning, when her mother had gone to Lottie’s house
in Canonbury for the day, jumped on an omnibus for the city. She hoped
Mike would not mind her going to see him at his place of business, but
she knew that if she went to Fitzjohn’s Avenue, Adeline was sure to be
there, and she wanted to see him alone.
The Acme Furnishing Company’s premises were situated in the
neighbourhood of Tottenham Court Road. Dinah found them with little
difficulty, for, by dint of extensive advertising, they were well-known.
She stood outside and surveyed the well-stocked windows with admiration.
Each window represented a bedroom or sitting-room in miniature, fitted
with all the latest improvements in the furnishing line. Mike Rosen must
be very rich to be the owner of such a magnificent establishment, she
thought.
Her intention was to go in and inquire for her brother-in-law
straightway; but with her usual aptitude for fun, she thought she would
amuse herself first. So with a bold step and a merry twinkle in her
eye, she pushed open the swing-door, and stepped inside. A young man in
a fashionable frock coat came forward to attend to her requirements.
Dinah put on her most dignified manner.
“I have come,” she said, sinking on to a comfortable settee with an air
of importance, “in answer to an advertisement of yours in the _Daily
Post_, in which you term yourselves the _benefactors of mankind_.”
“Yes, madam?”
“You offer to accommodate young couples just about to get married, with
furniture on the easy-payment system. I am just about to get married,
and I want to pay easily, if you can understand.”
“Quite so, madam?” The young man regarded her with gravity. “How many
rooms would you require to furnish?”
“I can hardly tell you yet. We have not yet decided whether it is to be
a little back room in Bloomsbury or a villa in Hampstead. It all depends
on circumstances. Lots of things depend on circumstances, don’t they?”
she added with a sweet smile.
“Quite so, madam.” The young man thought her a somewhat queer customer.
“I have not come to order anything to-day,” she continued with dignity.
“I’ve only come to inspect. You say in your advertisement ‘_Inspection
invited_,’ you know. By-the-by, if we can’t pay up to date, I suppose
you come and grab the chairs and tables, don’t you? That is a
disadvantage--a decided disadvantage.”
The clerk cleared his throat. “Well, madam,” he replied, “we always
endeavour to exercise the greatest leniency possible. Of course, before
we send any goods to your--ahem--place of abode, we shall have to
satisfy ourselves as to your ability to pay. I do not suppose you will
object to our making full inquiries?”
“Oh, not at all,” said Dinah, complacently. Why should she object?
“Unlike some firms, we conduct our business on thoroughly honourable and
equitable principles,” the young man went on to assure her. “Then there
is our free insurance scheme. If your husband were to die----”
“Oh, but he is not going to die,” the girl interposed quickly. “Why, he
has only just begun to live!”
“Just so, madam; but life at best is uncertain. I was going to say that,
were your husband unfortunately to die, the furniture would be yours--as
his widow--without any further payment.”
“How nice!” Dinah murmured. “You give me the cold shivers down my back.
Widow indeed! And I’m not even married yet. Can I see your chief this
morning?”
The clerk looked dubious. “That is scarcely necessary, madam, at this
stage of the proceedings,” he replied. “The head of our firm is a very
busy man----”
But Dinah had espied a familiar figure looming in the background--a
figure with a broad waistcoat and a heavy gold chain.
“Mike!”
“Dinah! Why, what an unexpected treat this is, little girl!”
He came forward to greet her, his good-natured face beaming with
pleasure. Dinah bowed with a saucy air of apology to the astonished
clerk, and favoured her brother-in-law with a hearty kiss. Then she
linked her arm in his, and passed down a narrow passage which was lined
on either side with bedsteads of every description.
“Mike,” she said impressively, “I have come to talk to you about
something very serious. I am going to take you into my confidence; that
is why I have come down here. It is just between ourselves. Do you
understand?”
Mike nodded gravely. “Perfectly,” he replied. “You will do well to take
me into your confidence. But it is just my luncheon-time. Thompson, lay
another knife and fork, please”--this to another of his numerous clerks.
“Things of importance are much better discussed after lunch, you know.
You are not in a hurry to get home?”
“No, Ma is out, so it doesn’t matter. You are not vexed with me for
coming here, Mike?”
“Not at all, not at all. Quite delighted, I assure you. It’s not often I
get a visitor to lunch, though Adeline brings the kiddie occasionally.”
He led the way up a short flight of stairs to a room marked “private,”
and, opening the door, stood back for Dinah to enter. Although not
large, it was a sumptuously furnished room, fitted with all the comforts
that the owner could possibly desire. Red was the predominant tone, the
wall-paper, carpet, hangings and upholstery being all of that colour. A
large pigeon-hole cabinet and desk combined took up the whole of one
wall, whilst a small card-table bore testimony to the fact that the
proprietor was not averse to a little recreation in the midst of work.
One picture only adorned the walls: it was an enlarged portrait of the
woman he cared most about--his wife.
Dinah inspected her surroundings with undisguised approval, then sat
down to the table, which gleamed with the finest cutlery and silver.
Suddenly something pink streaked with fat caught her eye. She glanced at
it casually at first, then fixedly, and finally gasped in astonishment.
“Mike, you humbug!” she exclaimed in a tone of pained surprise.
“It’s--it’s--_ham_!”
Mike felt himself go red down to the back of his neck. What an idiot he
was not to have ordered the unlawful viand to be removed before the girl
entered the room--but he had scarcely had time.
“Yes,” he replied with exaggerated carelessness, “my doctor recommends
it as an extremely nutritious article of food. Adeline objects to have
it in the house at all at home, so I am obliged to partake of it down
here. However, I will not hurt your feelings by offering you any. This
is a very tender chicken.”
He proceeded to carve the bird, handing a well-filled plate of it to his
guest.
Dinah’s face fell. Looking longingly at the ham, she began to trifle
with her chicken.
“I suppose I had better not ask whether this is _kosher_?” she inquired
diffidently.
“Oh, it is quite _kosher_; it came from Abrahams’,” Mike answered
quickly. “I would not offer it to you unless it were.”
He poured out two wine-glasses full of port: it was ’57 port. Dinah
clinked her glass against his, and drank. Then she looked at the ham
again, and sighed.
“Have a bit?” suggested her brother-in-law, with a sly wink.
She shook her head, but it was not a very decided kind of shake. Then,
after a moment’s pause, she said, with a feeble attempt at casuistry--
“Mike, the ham has rubbed shoulders with the chicken. They are both on
the same dish, therefore one is no more _kosher_ than the other. I think
you may give me a piece just about the size of a sixpence. I’ve never
tasted it before in my life.”
“Certainly,” he replied with alacrity. “Here, give me your plate. If you
eat a little bit, it’s just as bad--or as good--as eating the whole lot.
There--now what do you think of it?”
Dinah cut a small piece, and pricked it with her fork. “‘Get a piece of
pork,’” she murmured softly, “‘and stick it on a fork, and give it to
the----’” Here she popped it into her mouth. “Oh, Mike, it’s positively
scrumptious. But you won’t tell Ma, will you?”
“Oh no, I won’t split on you,” he replied cheerfully. “You see, we are
both in the same boat.”
Pushing back his chair, he rose from the table; for a ring on the
telephone claimed his attention.
“Do you know who that was?” he said, when he sat down again. “It was Mr.
Salmon talking from Manchester. I would have told him you were here, but
there was no time.”
“It is about David that I have come to see you,” Dinah began, somewhat
nervously. “You must not tell anybody yet, but we are engaged.”
Her brother-in-law raised his eyebrows. “You don’t say so!” he
exclaimed. “Why, I thought that Ma----”
“Yes, Ma and Pa are both against it,” she hastened to explain. “That is
the trouble. But I have quite made up my mind not to have Mr.
Finkelstein or any other snuffy old creature they may choose to rake up
for me. I am going to marry the man I love, and that is David. Oh, I
love him so much, Mike--awfully much! I feel I shall do something
desperate if anything happens to prevent us from marrying.”
She spoke quickly, and evidently meant what she said. Mike puckered up
his brow, and having obtained the requisite permission, lit a cigar.
“It’s a pity,” he said between the puffs. “Couldn’t you place your
affections on somebody more reliable than Salmon? I don’t say he’s not a
nice lad--in fact, I rather like him myself; but he is not steady, he
doesn’t stick to his business. I should like to see you comfortably
married, Di, but to somebody with more backbone than David Salmon.”
“I know he is not a saint,” she answered eagerly. “I don’t want him to
be. I couldn’t stand a paragon of perfection for more than a week. But
he is not bad, Mike. You have no idea how good-hearted he really is. And
he has promised me not to bet or gamble any more. Oh, I’ll make him
stick to his business when we are married; you don’t know what a
tremendous influence I have over him.”
“H’m!” Mike grunted, and scratched the back of his head. “Well, what do
you want me to do?”
“I want you to give him a lift,” she pleaded earnestly; “to put him in a
position that will enable him to marry me with the consent of my
parents. I wouldn’t ask you to help us if you were not such a thoroughly
good fellow, Mike. You give away such large sums in charity, that I
thought you wouldn’t mind going in for a little of that charity which
begins at home. You offered to take David into partnership when he
married, you know.”
“Ah, yes, but that was a different matter. If he had married Celia
Franks he would have had her money to invest. I withdrew my offer
directly the girl so foolishly threw away her fortune. You cannot expect
me to take him into partnership if he hasn’t a farthing to put into the
business--now, can you, Dinah?”
“No, I suppose not,” she answered dejectedly, scarcely knowing what to
say.
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. The same clerk who
had attended to Dinah came in to state that the head of a contemporary
firm wished to see Mr. Rosen on important business.
Dinah jumped up and drew on her gloves, thinking she had taken up enough
of her brother-in-law’s valuable time. Mike flicked the ash off his
cigar.
“Well, I will have a serious conversation with David when he returns,”
he said, as the clerk withdrew. “And if I can see my way to promote him,
I will do so, for your sake, little girl. Anyway, I’ll give you all your
house-furniture for a wedding-present, and a handsome cheque besides.
So keep your pecker up, Di; _I’ll see you through_.”
Then, with a hasty farewell, he ordered the clerk to call a hansom and
pay the driver. Dinah appreciated the attention, and quite enjoyed her
free ride home. She was delighted with the result of her mission, for
she knew that her brother-in-law would be as good as his word.
As for Mike, he went home and told his wife everything; and, as usual,
asked her advice. Adeline hemmed and hawed, and cross-questioned her
spouse until he marvelled at the shrewdness of womankind. Finally she
said--
“Di won’t be happy till she gets him, Mike. We had better let her have
him, and between us all we’ll manage to keep him straight.”
And so it was, that within the next fortnight the engagement between
Dinah Friedberg and David Salmon was formally announced.