Children of the Ghetto

music was popular they accompanied it on their voices. After supper their heels grew lighter, and the laughter and gossip louder, but never beyond the bounds of decorum. A few Dutch dancers tried to introduce the more gymnastic methods in vogue in their own clubs, where the kangaroo is dancing master, but the sentiment of the floor was against them. Hannah danced little, a voluntary wallflower, for she looked radiant in tussore silk, and there was an air of refinement about the slight, pretty girl that attracted the beaux of the Club. But she only gave a duty dance to Sam, and a waltz to Daniel Hyams, who had been brought by his sister, though he did not boast a swallow-tail to match her flowing draperies. Hannah caught a rather unamiable glance from pretty Bessie Sugarman, whom poor Daniel was trying hard not to see in the crush.

'Is your sister engaged yet?' Hannah asked, for want of something to say.

'You would know it if she was,' said Daniel, looking so troubled that Hannah reproached herself for the meaningless remark.

'How well she dances!' she made haste to say.

'Not better than you,' said Daniel, gallantly.

'I see compliments are among the fancy goods you deal in. Do you reverse?' she added, as they came to an awkward corner.

'Yes-but not my compliments,' he said smiling. 'Miriam taught me.'

'She makes me think of Miriam dancing by the Red Sea,' she said, laughing at the incongruous idea.

'She played a timbrel, though, didn't she?' he asked. 'I confess I don't quite know what a timbrel is.'

'A sort of tambourine, I suppose,' said Hannah merrily, 'and she sang because the children of Israel were saved.'

They both laughed heartily, but when the waltz was over they returned to their individual gloom. Towards supper-time, in the middle of a square dance, Sam suddenly noticing Hannah's solitude, brought her a tall bronzed gentlemanly young man in a frock coat, mumbled an introduction and rushed back to the arms of the exacting Leah.

'Excuse me, I am not dancing to-night,' Hannah said coldly in reply to the stranger's demand for her programme.

'Well, I'm not half sorry,' he said, with a frank smile. 'I had to ask you, you know. But I should feel quite out of place bumping such a lot of swells.'

There was something unusual about the words and the manner which impressed Hannah agreeably, in spite of herself. Her face relaxed a little as she said:

'Why, haven't you been to one of these affairs before?'

'Oh yes, six or seven years ago, but the place seems quite altered. They've rebuilt it, haven't they? Very few of us sported dress-coats here in the days before I went to the Cape. I only came back the other day and somebody gave me a ticket and so I've looked in for auld lang syne.'

An unsympathetic hearer would have detected a note of condescension in the last sentence. Hannah detected it, for the announcement that the young man had returned from the Cape froze all her nascent sympathy. She was turned to ice again. Hannah knew him well-the young man from the Cape. He was a higher and more disagreeable development of the young man in the dress-coat. He had put South African money in his purse- whether honestly or not, no one inquired-the fact remained he had put it in his purse. Sometimes the law confiscated it, pretending he had purchased diamonds illegally, or what not, but then the young man did not return from the Cape. But, to do him justice, the secret of his success was less dishonesty than the opportunities for initiative energy in unexploited districts. Besides, not having to keep up appearances, he descended to menial occupations and toiled so long and terribly that he would probably have made just as much money at home, if he had had the courage. Be this as it may, there the money was, and, armed with it, the young man set sail literally for England, home and beauty, resuming his cast-off gentility with several extra layers of superciliousness. Pretty Jewesses, pranked in their prettiest clothes, hastened, metaphorically speaking, to the port to welcome the wanderer; for they knew it was from among them he would make his pick. There were several varieties of him-marked by financial ciphers-but whether he married in his old station or higher up the scale, he was always faithful to the sectarian tradition of the race, and this less from religious motives than from hereditary instinct. Like the young man in the dress-coat, he held the Christian girl to be cold of heart, and unsprightly of temperament. He laid it down that all Yiddishe girls possessed that warmth and chic which, among Christians, were the birthright of a few actresses and music-hall artistes-themselves, probably, Jewesses! And on things theatrical this young man spoke as one having authority. Perhaps, though he was scarce conscious of it, at the bottom of his repulsion was the certainty that the Christian girl could not fry fish. She might be delightful for flirtation of all degrees, but had not been formed to make him permanently happy. Such was the conception which Hannah had formed for herself of the young man from the Cape. This latest specimen of the genus was prepossessing into the bargain. There was no denying he was well built, with a shapely head and a lovely moustache. Good looks alone were vouchers for insolence and conceit, but, backed by the aforesaid purse-! She turned her head away and stared at the evolutions of the 'Lancers' with much interest.

'They've got some pretty girls in that set,' he observed admiringly. Evidently the young man did not intend to go away.

Hannah felt very annoyed. 'Yes,' she said, sharply, 'which would you like?'

'I shouldn't care to make invidious distinctions,' he replied with a little laugh.

'Odious prig!' thought Hannah. 'He actually doesn't see I'm sitting on him!' Aloud she said, 'No? But you can't marry them all.'

'Why should I marry any?' he asked in the same light tone, though there was a shade of surprise in it.

'Haven't you come back to England to get a wife? Most young men do, when they don't have one exported to them in Africa.'

He laughed with genuine enjoyment and strove to catch the answering gleam in her eyes, but she kept them averted. They were standing with their backs to the wall and he could only see the profile and note the graceful poise of the head upon the warm-colored neck that stood out against the white bodice. The frank ring of his laughter mixed with the merry jingle of the fifth figure-

'Well, I'm afraid I'm going to be an exception,' he said.

'You think nobody good enough, perhaps,' she could not help saying.

'Oh! Why should you think that?'

'Perhaps you're married already.'

'Oh no, I'm not,' he said earnestly. 'You're not, either, are you?'

'Me?' she asked; then, with a barely perceptible pause, she said, 'Of course I am.'

The thought of posing as the married woman she theoretically was, flashed upon her suddenly and appealed irresistibly to her sense of fun. The recollection that the nature of the ring on her finger was concealed by her glove afforded her supplementary amusement.

'Oh!' was all he said. 'I didn't catch your name exactly.'

'I didn't catch yours,' she replied evasively.

'David Brandon,' he said readily.

'It's a pretty name,' she said, turning smilingly to him. The infinite possibilities of making fun of him latent in the joke quite warmed her towards him. 'How unfortunate for me I have destroyed my chance of getting it.'

It was the first time she had smiled, and he liked the play of light round the curves of her mouth, amid the shadows of the soft dark skin, in the black depths of the eyes.

'How unfortunate for me!' he said, smiling in return.

'Oh yes, of course!' she said with a little toss of her head. 'There is no danger in saying that now.'

'I wouldn't care if there was.'

'It is easy to smooth down the serpent when the fangs are drawn,' she laughed back.

'What an extraordinary comparison!' he exclaimed. 'But where are all the people going? It isn't all over, I hope.'

'Why, what do you want to stay for? You're not dancing.'

'That is the reason. Unless I dance with you.'

'And then you would want to go?' she flashed with mock resentment.

'I see you're too sharp for me,' he said lugubriously. 'Roughing it among the Boers makes a fellow a bit dull