[V
HAPPY HAMPSTEAD]
ON the morning of the day fixed for their expedition to Hampstead Heath she sent him roses—yellow roses. He took them across to his mother and gave them to her, saying:—
“I do not need flowers. I am happy.”
Golda laughed at him, and said:—
“You are a big little man since you made the catch at the cricket.”
“I don’t know what it is, but I am happy. It is no longer surprising to me that there are happy people in the world, and I think the Christians are not all such fools to wish to be happy. I am only astonished that they are happy with such little things.”
“It is nothing,” said Golda. “They are not truly happy; they are only hiding away from themselves.”
“But I am finding myself,” cried Mendel. “I shall no more paint fishes and onions. I shall paint only what I feel, and it will be beautiful. I am so clever I can paint anything I choose.”
“Go to your work now,” said Golda. “You can boast as much as you please when the King has sent for you and told you you are the greatest artist in England. Go to your work.”
He went back to his studio and there found a letter from Logan, giving his new address in Camden Town, and another from Mitchell, asking him why he was so unfriendly. This he answered at once:—