“Becky,” said Mr. Belcovitch, “this is Mr. Shosshi Shmendrik.”

Shosshi put on a sickly grin and nodded his head affirmatively, as if to corroborate the statement, and the round felt hat he wore slid back till the broad rim rested on his ears.  Through a sort of mist a terribly fine maid loomed.

Becky stared at him haughtily and curled her lip.  Then she giggled.

Shosshi held out his huge red hand limply.  Becky took no notice of it.

“Nu, Becky!” breathed Belcovitch, in a whisper that could have been heard across the way.

“How are you?  All right?” said Becky, very loud, as if she thought deafness was among Shosshi’s disadvantages.

Shosshi grinned reassuringly.

There was another silence.

Shosshi wondered whether the convenances would permit him to take his leave now.  He did not feel comfortable at all.  Everything had been going so delightfully, it had been quite a pleasure to him to come to the house.  But now all was changed.  The course of true love never does run smooth, and the advent of this new personage into the courtship was distinctly embarrassing.

The father came to the rescue.

“A little rum?” he said.

“Yes,” said Shosshi.

“Chayah! nu.  Fetch the bottle!”

Mrs. Belcovitch went to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room and took from the top of it a large decanter.  She then produced two glasses without feet and filled them with the home-made rum, handing one to Shosshi and the other to her husband.  Shosshi muttered a blessing over it, then he leered vacuously at the company and cried, “To life!”

“To peace!” replied the older man, gulping down the spirit.  Shosshi was doing the same, when his eye caught Becky’s.  He choked for five minutes, Mrs. Belcovitch thumping him maternally on the back.  When he was comparatively recovered the sense of his disgrace rushed upon him and overwhelmed him afresh.  Becky was still giggling behind the sewing machine.  Once more Shosshi felt that the burden of the conversation was upon him.  He looked at his boots and not seeing anything there, looked up again and grinned encouragingly at the company as if to waive his rights.  But finding the company did not respond, he blew his nose enthusiastically as a lead off to the conversation.

Mr. Belcovitch saw his embarrassment, and, making a sign to Chayah, slipped out of the room followed by his wife.  Shosshi was left alone with the terribly fine maid.

Becky stood still, humming a little air and looking up at the ceiling, as if she had forgotten Shosshi’s existence.  With her eyes in that position it was easier for Shosshi to look at her.  He stole side-long glances at her, which, growing bolder and bolder, at length fused into an uninterrupted steady gaze.  How fine and beautiful she was!  His eyes began to glitter, a smile of approbation overspread