tell papa. For an engagement present you get--like
Ray--two hundred dollars."

Mrs. Katzenstein's face was lyric and her voice furry with emotion. She
hastened, her night-room slippers slouching off her feet, into the hall
and unhooked the telephone receiver.

"Columbus 5-6-2-4," she whispered, standing on her toes to reach the
mouthpiece. "Bamberger's apartment. Batta! Hello, Batta! I know you
ain't in bed yet, 'cause you got the poker crowd--not? Batta, I got news
for you! Guess! Yes; it just happened--such a surprise, you can believe
me! Grand! How happy we are you should know! I want they should start in
one of those apartments like yours, Batta. Five rooms and a sleep-out
porch is enough for a beginning. You can tell who you want--yes; I don't
believe in secrets. Batta, who was the woman that embroidered those
towels for your Miriam's trousseau? Yes; both of them gone now! Ain't
that the way with raising children? But I wish every girl such a young
man! Yes, just think, for a firm like Loeb Brothers--manager yet! Batta,
come over the first thing in the morning. Now I got trousseau on my mind
again, I think I go to the same woman for the table-linen. Good night.
She's in talking to her papa--she'll call you to-morrow. Thank you! Good
night! Good-by!... Birdie," she called, through the open doorway, "Mrs.
Ginsburg's number is Plaza 8-5-7, ain't it? You think it too late to
call her?"

"Yes, mamma, and, anyway, if Aunt Batta knows it that's
enough--to-morrow everybody has it."

"Yes," said Mrs. Katzenstein, submissively; but after a moment she
turned to the telephone again and unhooked the receiver. "Plaza 8-5-7,"
she said, in muffled tones.

* * * * *

The evening following, Mrs. Katzenstein greeted her prospective
son-in-law with three kisses--one for each cheek and the third for the
very center of his mouth. She batted at him playfully with her hand.

"You bad boy, you! What you mean by stealing away our baby? Papa, you
come right in here and fight with him."

"Mrs. Katzenstein, for you to give me a girl like Birdie, I don't
deserve. She's the grandest girl in the world!"

"He asks me for my Birdie," said Mr. Katzenstein, pumping the young
man's arm up and down; "but he asks me after it is all settled and
everybody but me knows it--even in the factory to-day I hear about it."

Laughter.

"What could we do, papa--wake you up last night?"

"He should pay your bills awhil