“And learn to speak English.”
Shadrach never lost his temper; never upbraided them. He would look from one to the other and keep his lips tightly pressed together. And when they had gone he would look at Marta and would say:
“Tell me what you think, Marta. Tell me what you think.”
“It is not proper for me to interfere between father and sons,” Marta would say. And Shadrach could never induce her to tell him what she thought. But he could perceive a gleam in her eyes and observed a certain nervous vigour in the way she cleaned the pots and pans for hours after these talks, that fell soothingly upon his perturbed spirit.
As we remarked before, there is no rule for the turning of the worm. Some worms, however, turn with a crash. It was so with Shadrach Cohen.
Gottlieb informed his father that he contemplated getting married.
“She is very beautiful,” he said. “The affair is all in the hands of the Shadchen.”
His father’s face lit up with pleasure.
“Gottlieb,” he said, holding out his hand, “God bless you! It’s the very best thing you could do. Marta, bring me my hat and coat. Come, Gottlieb. Take me to see her. I cannot wait a moment. I want to see my future daughter-in-law at once. How happy your mother would be if she were alive to-day!”