The Woman with One Hand, and Mr. Ely's Engagement

"That's a fine girl, Leah! A smart girl, too." Mr. Ely had not the slightest doubt of her "smartness," not the least. "She'll be a fortune to any man. She's very fond of you."

Mr. Ely was certainly not fond of her, but he could scarcely say so to her father's face. So he kept still.

"Rachel, she miss you too."

Silence. Mr. Ely saw plainly that he was going to be missed by all the six. Since he could not escape from the train while it was travelling at the rate of forty miles an hour, the only course open was to sit still and say as little as he could. He knew his friend too well to suppose that anything he could say would induce him to turn the conversation into other channels. The fond father went blandly on.

"She say you gave her a little gift, eh? That so?"

"Never gave her anything in my life."

"No! She says you gave her a lock of your hair; it was little to you, it was much to her. Rachel, she treasures up these little things. She show it me one day; she says she keep it here."

Mr. Rosenbaum patted his waistcoat in the region where his heart might anatomically be supposed to be.

"I tell you what it is, Rosenbaum, your girls are like their father, smart."

"We're not fools," admitted Mr. Rosenbaum.

"One night, when I was asleep on the couch in that back room of yours in Cromwell Road-before you failed last time" – it is within the range of possibility that this allusion was meant to sting, but Mr. Rosenbaum smoked blandly on-"that girl of yours cut off some of my hair, and drew blood in doing it, by George!"

"Ah! she says you give it her-from sympathy, my friend. She admire you very much, that girl."

Mr. Ely kept silence. If there was any one of the six he disliked more than the others it was the young lady whom her father said admired him very much-Miss Rachel Rosenbaum. Some fathers, if they had had the names of three of their daughters received in this rather frigid way, would have changed the subject perhaps. But if Mr. Rosenbaum had not been a persevering man, his address would not have been Queen's Gate. Besides, Mrs. Rosenbaum was dead, and he had to act the parts of mother and father too. And there were six.

"Judith, she miss you too."

This was the fourth; there still were two to follow. Mr. Ely resolved to have a little plunge upon his own account.

"Doing anything in Unified?"

Mr. Rosenbaum looked at him, puffed out a cloud of smoke, and smiled. "I say, Judith, she miss you too."

"And I said, 'Doing anything in Unified?'"

Mr. Rosenbaum leaned forward and laid his great, fat, jewelled hand on Mr. Ely's knee. "Now, my friend, there is a girl for you; plump, tender-what an eye!"

"And what a nose! And a moustache!" was on Mr. Ely's lips, but he refrained.

"That girl just twenty-four, and she weigh a hundred and seventy pound-she do credit to any man. And, my goodness, how she is fond of you, my boy!"

A vision passed before Mr. Ely's mental eye of the girl whom he had left behind. And then he thought of the young lady whose chief qualification was that she weighed a hundred and seventy pounds at twenty-four.

"She not a worrying girl, that Judith; that's the sort of wife for a man to have who wants to live an easy life. She let him do just what he please, and never say a word."

Mr. Ely fidgeted in his seat. "I say, Rosenbaum, I wish you'd try some other theme."

Mr. Rosenbaum held up his fat forefinger, with its half a dozen rings, and wagged it in Mr. Ely's face. "But the great point is Sarah, my good friend; there is something between you and she."

"What the dickens do you mean?"

"Oh! you know what I mean. What passed between you on the river that fine day?"

"What fine day?"

"What fine day! So there has been more than one! That I did not know; the one it was enough for me."

"And upon my word, with all due respect to Miss Sarah Rosenbaum, it was enough for me."

"You did not kiss her, eh? You did not kiss her that fine day?"

"I don't know if I kissed her or she kissed me. I say, Rosenbaum, those girls of yours don't seem to keep many secrets from their father."

"That is as good a girl as ever lived; you will do justice to her, eh?"

"I hope I should do justice to every girl."

"So! That is it! You would marry half a dozen, perhaps!"

"By George, I don't believe you'd offer any objection if I wanted to!"

Mr. Rosenbaum sat back in his seat. Apparently this observation did go home. He appeared to reflect, but he showed that he was by no means beaten by suddenly discovering a fresh attack.

"My good friend, you think you are a clever man. I allow you are no fool, but you have met your match in me."

In his secret heart Mr. Ely was quite willing to allow the fact.

"You have played with my six daughters-very good! You have trifled with their hearts. I say not any word, but there is one of them you must marry, and Ruth is she."

Mr. Ely was silent. He kept his eyes cast down. Mr. Rosenbaum, on the other hand, kept his eyes fixed upon his good friend's face.

"Come, I am her father. When is it to be?"

Then Mr. Ely did look up. The two friends' glances met; Mr. Ely certainly did not flinch.

"It won't do; try some other lay."

"What you mean-try some other lay?"

"Mean what I say."

"You never asked her to marry you?"

"I swear I never did."

"You never gave her to understand that you wished her for your wife, eh?"

"I'm not responsible for her understanding."