“What’s the matter wit you, boss?  Gone back on your grub, eh?”

It was his clerk, Samuel Sprink, whose sharp little eyes had not failed to note the gloomy glances of his employer.

“Pretty gay girl, our Irma has come to be,” continued the cheerful Samuel, who prided himself on his fine selection of colloquial English.  “She’s a beaut now, ain’t she?  A regular bird!”

Rosenblatt started.  At his words, but more at the admiration in Samuel’s eyes, a new idea came to him.  He knew his clerk well, knew his restless ambition, his insatiable greed, his intense selfishness, his indomitable will.  And he had good reason to know.  Three times during the past year his clerk had forced from him an increase of salary.  Indeed, Samuel Sprink, young though he was and unlearned in the ways of the world, was the only man in the city that Rosenblatt feared.  If by any means Samuel could obtain a hold over this young lady, he would soon bring her to the dust.  Once in Samuel’s power, she would soon sink to the level of the ordinary Galician wife.  True, she was but a girl of fifteen, but in a year or so she would be ready for the altar in the Galician estimation.

As these thoughts swiftly flashed through his mind, Rosenblatt turned to Samuel Sprink and said, “Yes, she is a fine girl.  I never noticed before.  It is her new dress.”

“Not a bit,” said Samuel.  “The dress helps out, but it is the girl herself.  I have seen it for a long time.  Look at her.  Isn’t she a bird, a bird of Paradise, eh?”

“She will look well in a cage some day, eh, Samuel?”

“You bet your sweet life!” said Samuel.

“Better get the cage ready then, Samuel,” suggested Rosenblatt.  “There are plenty bird fanciers in this town.”

The suggestion seemed to anger Samuel, who swore an English oath and lapsed into silence.

Irma heard, but heeded little.  Rosenblatt she feared, Samuel Sprink she despised.  There had been a time when both she and Paulina regarded him with admiration mingled with awe.  Samuel Sprink had many attractions.  He had always plenty of money to jingle, and had a reputation for growing wealth.  He was generous in his gifts to the little girl—­gifts, it must be confessed, that cost him little, owing to his position as clerk in Rosenblatt’s store.  Then, too, he was so clever with his smart English and his Canadian manners, so magnificent with his curled and oily locks, his resplendent jewelry, his brilliant neckties.  But that was before Irma had been brought to the little mission, and before she had learned through Margaret Ketzel and through Margaret’s father and mother something of Canadian life, of Canadian people, of Canadian manners and dress.  As her knowledge in this direction extended, her admiration and reverence for Samuel Sprink faded.