u?"

She puts the corner of her apron to her eyes, and cries quietly to
herself.

There is stillness around. The lamp sheds its brightness over the little
room, and casts their shadows onto the walls.

The heavy sleeping of the old people is audible behind the curtain.

And her head lies on his shoulder, and her thick black hair hides his
face.

"How kind you are, Eleazar," she whispers through her tears.

And she opens her whole heart to him, tells him how it is with them now,
how bad things are, they have pawned everything, and there is nothing
left for to-morrow, nothing but the dowry!

He clasps her lovingly, and dries her cheeks with her apron end, saying:
"Don't cry, Feigele, don't cry. It will all come right. And to-morrow,
mind, you are to go to the postoffice, and take a little of the dowry,
as much as you need, until your father, God helping, is well again, and
able to earn something, and then...."

"And then ..." she echoes in a whisper.

"And then it will all come right," and his eyes flash into hers. "Just
as you are ..." he whispers.

And she looks at him, and a smile crosses her face.

She feels so happy, so happy.

* * * * *

Next morning she went to the postoffice for the first time with her
bank-book, took out a few rubles, and gave them to her mother.

The mother sighed heavily, and took on a grieved expression; she
frowned, and pulled her head-kerchief down over her eyes.

Old Reb Yainkel lying in bed turned his face to the wall.

The old man knew where the money came from, he knew how his only child
had toiled for those few rubles. Other fathers gave money to their
children, and he took it--

It seemed to him as though he were plundering the two young people. He
had not long to live, and he was robbing them before he died.

As he thought on this, his eyes glazed, the veins on his temple swelled,
and his face became suffused with blood.

His head is buried in the pillow, and turns to the wall, he lies and
thinks these thoughts.

He knows that he is in the way of the children's happiness, and he prays
that he may die.

And she, Feigele, would like to come into a fortune all at once, to have
a lot of money, to be as rich as any great lady.

And then suppose she had a thousand rubles now, this minute, and he came
in: "There, take the whole of it, see if I love you! There, take it, and
then you needn't say you love me for nothing, just as I am."