He pictured the love-light in her eyes; for surely she was dreaming of him, as he of her. He took out his watch—the time was twenty to nine. After all, would it be so outrageous to call? He went away twice. The third time, defying the convenances, he knocked at the door, his heart beating almost as loudly.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE SHADOW OF RELIGION.
The little servant girl who opened the door for him looked relieved by the sight of him, for it might have been the Rebbitzin returning from the Lane with heaps of supplies and an accumulation of ill-humor. She showed him into the study, and in a few moments Hannah hurried in with a big apron and a general flavor of the kitchen.
"How dare you come to-night?" she began, but the sentence died on her lips.
"How hot your face is," he said, dinting the flesh fondly with his finger, "I see my little girl is glad to have me back."
"It's not that. It's the fire. I'm frying fish for Yomtov," she said, with a happy laugh.
"And yet you say you're not a good Jewess," he laughed back.
"You had no right to come and catch me like this," she pouted. "All greasy and dishevelled. I'm not made up to receive visitors."
"Call me a visitor?" he grumbled. "Judging by your appearance, I should say you were always made up. Why, you're perfectly radiant."