Children of the Ghetto

about in a heyday of jubilant vocalization; then his comic prima-donna would fall ill or elope, his conductor would get drunk, his chorus would strike, and little Sampson would continue to sub-edit The Flag of Judah.

Pinchas unceremoniously turned the handle of the door and came in. The sub-editor immediately hurried out to get a cup of tea. Pinchas had fastened upon him the responsibility for the omission of an article last week, and had come to believe that he was in league with rival Continental scholars to keep Melchitsedek Pinchas's effusions out of print, and so little Sampson dared not face the angry savant. Raphael, thus deserted, cowered in his chair. He did not fear death, but he feared Pinchas, and had fallen into the cowardly habit of bribing him lavishly not to fill the paper. Fortunately, the poet was in high feather.

'Don't forget the announcement that I lecture at the Club on Sunday. You see all the efforts of Reb Shemuel, of the Rev. Joseph Strelitski, of the Chief Rabbi, of Ebenezer vid his blue spectacles, of Sampson, of all the phalanx of English Men-of-the-Earth, they all fail. Ab, I am a great man.'

'I won't forget,' said Raphael wearily. 'The announcement is already in print.'

'Ah, I love you. You are the best man in the vorld. It is you who have championed me against those who are thirsting for my blood. And now I vill tell you joyful news. There is a maiden coming up to see you-she is asking in the publisher's office-oh such a lovely maiden!'

Pinchas grinned all over his face, and was like to dig his editor in the ribs.

'What maiden?'

'I do not know; but vai-r-r-y beaudiful. Aha, I vill go. Have you not been good to me? But vy come not beaudiful maidens to me ?'

'No, no, you needn't go,' said Raphael, getting red.

Pinchas grinned as one who knew better, and struck a match to rekindle a stump of cigar. 'No, no, I go write my lecture-oh it vill be a great lecture. You vill announce it in the paper! You vill not leave it out like Sampson left out my article last week.' He was at the door now, with his finger alongside his nose.

Raphael shook himself impatiently, and the poet threw the door wide open and disappeared.

For a full minute Raphael dared not look towards the door for fear of seeing the poet's cajoling head framed in the opening. When he did, he was transfixed to see Esther Ansell's there, regarding him pensively.

His heart beat painfully at the shock; the room seemed flooded with sunlight.

'May I come in?' she said, smiling.

CHAPTER X. ESTHER DEFIES THE UNIVERSE.

Esther wore a neat black mantle, and looked taller and more womanly than usual in a pretty bonnet and a spotted veil. There was a flush of color in her cheeks, her eyes sparkled. She had walked in cold sunny weather from the British Museum (where she was still supposed to be), and the wind had blown loose a little wisp of hair over the small shell-like ear. In her left hand she held a roll of manuscript. It contained her criticisms of the May Exhibitions. Whereby hung a tale.

In the dark days that followed the scene with Levi, Esther's resolution had gradually formed. The position had become untenable. She could no longer remain a Schnorrer; abusing the bounty of her benefactors into the bargain. She must leave the Goldsmiths, and at once. That was imperative; the second step could be thought over when she had taken the first. And yet she postponed taking the first. Once she drifted out of her present sphere, she could not answer for the future, could not be certain, for instance, that she would be able to redeem her promise to Raphael to sit in judgment upon the Academy and other picture galleries that bloomed in May. At any rate, once she had severed connection with the Goldsmith circle, she would not care to renew it, even in the case of Raphael. No, it was best to get this last duty off her shoulders, then to say farewell to him and all the other human constituents of her brief period of partial sunshine. Besides, the personal delivery of the precious manuscript would afford her the opportunity of this farewell to him. With his social remissness, it was unlikely he would call soon upon the Goldsmiths, and she now restricted her friendship with Addie to receiving Addie's visits, so as to prepare for its dissolution. Addie amused her by reading extracts from Sidney's letters, for the brilliant young artist had suddenly gone off to Norway the morning after the debut of the new Hamlet. Esther felt that it might be as well if she stayed on to see how the drama of these two lives developed. These things she told herself in the reaction from the first impulse of instant flight.

Raphael put down his pipe at the sight of her and a frank smile of welcome shone upon his flushed face.

'This is so kind of you!' he said; 'who would have thought of seeing you here? I am so glad. I hope you are well. You look better.' He was wringing her little gloved hand violently as he spoke.

'I feel better, too, thank you. The air is so exhilarating. I'm glad to see you're still in the land of the living. Addie has told me of your debauches of work.'

'Addie is foolish. I never felt better. Come inside. Don't be afraid of walking on the papers. They're all old.'

'I always heard literary people were untidy,' said Esther smiling. 'You must be a regular genius.'

'Well, you see we don't have many ladies coming here,' said Raphael deprecatingly, 'though we have plenty of old women.'

'It's evident you don't. Else some of them would go down on their hands and knees and never get up till this litter was tidied up a bit.'

'Never mind that now, Miss Ansell. Sit down, won't you? You must be tired. Take the editorial chair. Allow me a minute.' He removed some books from it.

'Is that the way you sit on the books sent in for review?' She sat down. 'Dear me! It's quite comfortable. You men like comfort, even the most self-sacrificing. But where is your fighting-editor? It would be awkward if an aggrieved reader came in and mistook me for the editor, wouldn't it? It isn't safe for me to remain in this chair.'

'Oh, yes it is! We've tackled our aggrieved readers for to-day,' he assured her.

She looked curiously round. 'Please pick up your pipe. It's going out. I don't mind smoke, indeed I don't. Even if I did, I should be prepared to pay the penalty of bearding an editor in his den.'

Raphael resumed his pipe gratefully.

'I wonder though you don't set the place on fire,' Esther rattled on, 'with all this mass of inflammable matter about.'

'It is very dry, most of it,' he admitted, with a smile.

'Why don't you have a real fire? It must be quite cold sitting here all day. What's that great ugly picture over there?'

'That steamer! It's an advertisement.'

'Heavens! What a decoration. I should like to have the criticism of that picture. I've brought you those picture-galleries, you know; that's what I've come for.'

'Thank you! That's very good of you. I'll send it to the printers at once.' He took the roll and placed it in a pigeon-hole, without taking his eyes off her face.

'Why don't you throw that awful staring thing away?' she asked, contemplating the steamer with a morbid fascination, 'and sweep away the old papers, and have a few little water-colors hung up and put a vase of flowers on your desk. I wish I had the control of the office for a week.'

'I wish you had,' he said gallantly. 'I can't find time to think of those things. I am sure you are brightening it up already.'

The little blush on her cheek deepened. Compliment was unwonted with him; and indeed, he spoke as he felt. The sight of her seated so strangely and unexpectedly in his own humdrum sanctum; the imaginary picture of her beautifying it and evolving harmony out of the chaos with artistic touches of her dainty hands, filled him with pleasant, tender thoughts, such as he had scarce known before. The commonplace editorial chair seemed to have undergone consecration and poetic transformation. Surely the sunshine that streamed through the dusty window would for ever rest on it henceforwards. And yet the whole thing appeared fantastic and unreal.

'I hope you are speaking the truth,' replied Esther with a little laugh. 'You need brightening, you old dry-as-