"Hol' on! How would you like to be a doctor, Shayie?"
"But your father would turn me out if I began to study for it."
She grew thoughtful. "But suppose he had no objection?" she queried,
her bashfulness suddenly returning to her face.
"Oh, then I should be dying to study doctor books--any kind of Gentile
books you wanted me to, Flora. But Reb Asriel won't let me."
"Listen! Can you keep a secret?" she asked like a conspiring little
schoolgirl.
"You mean about your being my sweetheart?"
"No!" she rejoined impatiently. "I mean the other thing--your
studyin'. Papa needn't get wind of it till it's too late--you
understand? If you are smart, we can fix that."
"That's all right. I am awful clever at keeping a secret," he boasted.
"Well, I want you to be a doctor, Shayie," she resumed, with matronly
tenderness. "If you are, I'll care for you, and you'll be my birdie
boy, an' all; if not, you won't. Oh, won't it be lovely when everybody
knows that you go to college and study together with nice, educated
up-town fellows! We would go to theatres together and read different
books. You'll make a daisy of a college boy, too--you bet. Would you
like to wear a high hat, and spec's, and ride in a buggy, with a
little nigger for a driver?--would you, would you, bad boy, you?
Hello, Doctor Golub! How are you?"
She presented her lips, and they kissed again and again.
"You know what, Shayie? When papa comes I'll go out somewheres, so you
can tell him--you know what I mean. It'll make it so much easier to
fool him. Will you tell him?"
"I am ashamed."
"_I_ won't tell him."
"Don't be angry--I will. I shall always do everything you tell me,
Flora," he said, looking into her black gleaming eyes,--"always,
always!" And in the exuberance of his delight he once again felt
himself a little boy, and broke out into a masterly imitation of the
crow of a cock, jumping up and flapping his arms for a pair of wings.
When Asriel and Shaya were alone in the parlor, the young man said, as
he fell to wringing his index finger,--
"Flora wants me to tell you that she is satisfied."
"Satisfied with what?" the old man demanded, leaping to his feet.
"To be my sweetheart."
"Is she? Did she say so? When?--Tamara!" he yelled, rushing downstairs
and dragging the prodigy along,--"Tamara! May you live long! The
Uppermost has taken pity upon me after all. Floraly[7] has come
around--blessed be the Uppermost."
[7] Affectionate diminutive.
"Blessed be the Uppermost!" Tamara echoed, her pleasant, swarthy face
beaming with heartfelt delight. "When He wills, walls of iron must
give way. It is a divine match--any one can see it is. May they live a
hundred and twenty years together. Mazol-tov!"[8]
[8] Good luck.
"Mazol-tov to you and to all of us," Asriel responded. "But where is
Flora? Fetch some drink, Tamara."
He stepped up to the "Wonder-worker box," and deposited a silver coin
for the support of the pilgrims at Palestine, saying as he did so:--
"I thank and praise thee, O Lord of the Universe, for thy mercy toward
me. Mayest Thou grant the children long years, and keep up in Shaya
his love for thy sacred Law. You know the match is all of your own
making, and you must take care of it. I am only your slave, that's
all."