he rear parlour, and then
it was that Morris discerned his partner's appreciative description of
Mrs. Gladstein's claim to be in no way exaggerated. She was arrayed in a
black silk dress of a design well calculated to display her graceful
figure, while her oval face was shaded by a black picture hat, beneath
which her large dark eyes glowed and flashed by turns. Moreover, her
complexion was all cream and roses, and when she smiled two rows of even
white teeth were exposed between a pair of tantalizing red lips.

Morris commenced to perspire with embarrassment as he remembered how he
had planned to negotiate a match for this glorious creature--a task that
only a very prince of marriage brokers might have essayed. He turned
away; but as his eye rested on B. Gurin, who still lingered over the
presents, he was obliged to admit that he had chosen a fitting
candidate, and he even felt mollified toward his delinquent customer as
he reflected on Gurin's lost opportunity.

"Gurin," he said, "ain't you going to congradulate the _Kahlo_?"

"I didn't know she was here at all," Gurin said sadly. The truth was
that Gurin's presence at the reception that afternoon was not inspired
by curiosity concerning either Mrs. Gladstein or Asimof. Business was
undeniably bad with him, and he was making an earnest effort to keep his
financial head above water. Thus he limited his personal expenses to the
preservation of his wardrobe, and he had cut down his cost of living to
a degree that permitted only a very low, lunch-wagon diet. He saw in
Mrs. Sammet's hospitality the prospect of a meal, and although he was by
no means courageous, his appetite spurred him on to brave his creditors'
wrath.

"I'll take a look at her," he murmured apologetically, and he began to
elbow his way through the group that surrounded the engaged couple.
Morris patted him on the shoulder as he passed and was about to return
to the back parlour when a shriek came from the centre of the
congratulatory throng.

"Boris!" cried a female voice with a note of hysteria in its shrill
tones.

"Sonia!" B. Gurin exclaimed, and the next moment he clasped Mrs.
Gladstein in his arms.

* * * * *

"You was asking me the name of Mrs. Gladstein's first husband," said Sol
Klinger to Morris Perlmutter, as they descended the stoop together half
an hour later. "It was Aaron Lutsky. He died two years after they was
married. I knew his family well in the