the years went by, and it looked as if the old woman's instinct were awry. henry did not go to the races, nor did fanny have to fall back on her mother-in-law for the maintenance of herself and her two children, becky and joseph. on the contrary, she doubled her position in the social scale by taking a four-roomed house in the holloway road. its proximity to the clothing emporium enabled henry to come home for lunch. but, alas! fanny was not allowed many years of enjoyment of these grandeurs and comforts. the one-roomed grave took her, leaving the four-roomed house incredibly large and empty. even natalya's ghetto garret, which fanny had not shared for seven years, seemed cold and vacant to the poor mother. a new loneliness fell upon her, not mitigated by ever rarer visits to her grandchildren. devoid of the link of her daughter, the house seemed immeasurably aloof from her in the social scale. henry was frigid and the little ones went with marked reluctance to this stern, forbidding old woman who questioned them as to their prayers and smelt of red-herrings. she ceased to go to the house.

and then at last all her smouldering distrust of henry elkman found overwhelming justification.

before the year of mourning was up, before he was entitled to cease saying the kaddish (funeral hymn) for her darling fanny, the wretch, she heard, was married again. and married—villainy upon villainy, horror upon horror—to a christian girl, a heathen abomination. natalya was wrestling with her [197]over-full sack when she got the news from a gossiping lady client, and she was boring holes for the passage of string to tie up its mouth. she turned the knife viciously, as if it were in henry elkman's heart.

she did not know the details of the piquant, tender courtship between him and the pretty assistant at the great drapery store that neighboured the holloway clothing emporium, any more than she understood the gradual process which had sapped henry's instinct of racial isolation, or how he had passed from admiration of british ways into entire abandonment of jewish. she was spared, too, the knowledge that latterly her own fanny had slid with him into the facile paths of impiety; that they had ridden for a breath of country air on sabbath afternoons. they had been considerate enough to hide that from her. to the old clo'-woman's crude mind, henry elkman existed as a monster of ready-made wickedness, and she believed even that he had been married in church and baptized, despite that her informant tried to console her with the assurance that the knot had been tied in a registrar's office.

'may he be cursed with the boils of pharaoh!' she cried in her picturesque jargon. 'may his fine clothes fall from his flesh and his flesh from his bones! may my fanny's outraged soul plead against him at the judgment bar! and she—this heathen female—may her death be sudden!' and she drew the ends of the string tightly together, as though round the female's neck.

'hush, you old witch!' cried the gossip, revolted; 'and what would become of your own grandchildren?'

'they cannot be worse off than they are now, with [198]a heathen in the house. all their judaism will become corrupted. she may even baptize them. oh, father in heaven!'

the thought weighed upon her. she pictured the innocent becky and joseph kissing crucifixes. at the best there would be no kosher food in the house any more. how could this stranger understand the mysteries of purging meat, of separating meat-plates from butter-plates?

at last she could bear the weight no longer. she took the elkman house in her rounds, and, bent under her sack, knocked at the familiar door. it was lunch-time, and unfamiliar culinary smells seemed wafted along the passage. her morbid imagination scented bacon. the orthodox amulet on the doorpost did not comfort her; it had been left there, forgotten, a mute symbol of the jewish past.

a pleasant young woman with blue eyes and fresh-coloured cheeks opened the door.

the blood surged to natalya's eyes, so that she could hardly see.

'old clo',' she said mechanically.

'no, thank you,' replied the young woman. her voice was sweet, but it sounded to natalya like the voice of lilith, stealer of new-born children. her rosy cheek seemed smeared with seductive paint. in the background glistened the dual crockery of the erst pious kitchen which the new-comer profaned. and between natalya and it, between natalya and her grandchildren, this alien girlish figure seemed to stand barrier-wise. she could not cross the threshold without explanations.

'is mr. elkman at home?' she asked.

[199]'you know the name!' said the young woman, a little surprised.

'yes, i have been here a good deal.' the old woman's sardonic accent was lost on the listener.

'i am sorry there is nothing this time,' she replied.

'not even a pair of old shoes?'

'no.'

'but the dead woman's——? are you, then, standing in them?'

the words were so fierce and unexpected, the crone's eyes blazed so weirdly, that the new wife recoiled with a little shriek.

'henry!' she cried.

fork in hand, he darted in from the living-room, but came to a sudden standstill.

'what do you want here?' he muttered.

'fanny's shoes!' she cried.

'who is it?' his wife's eyes demanded.

'a half-witted creature we deal with out of charity,' he gestured back. and he put her inside the room-door, whispering, 'let me get rid of her.'

'so, that's your painted poppet,' hissed his mother-in-law in yiddish.

'painted?' he said angrily. 'madge painted? she's just as natural as a rosy apple. she's a country girl, and her mother was a lady.'

'her mother? perhaps! but she? you see a glossy high hat marked sixteen and sixpence, and you think it's new. but i know what it's come from—a battered thing that has rolled in the gutter. ah, how she could have bewitched you, when there are so many honest jewesses without husbands!

[200]'i am sorry she doesn't please you; but, after all, it's my business, and not yours.'

'not mine? after i gave you my fanny, and she slaved for you and bore you children?'

'it's just for her children that i had to marry.'

'what? you had to marry a christian for the sake of fanny's children? oh, god forgive you!'

'we are not in poland now,' he said sulkily.

'ah, i always said you were a sinner in israel. my fanny has been taken for your sins. a black death on your bones.'

'if you don't leave off cursing, i shall call a policeman.'

'oh, lock me up, lock me up—instead of your shame. let the whole world know that.'

'go away, then. you have no right to come here and frighten madge—my wife. she is in delicate health, as it is.'

'may she be an atonement for all of us! i have the right to come here as much as i please.'

'you have no right.'

'i have a right to the children. my blood is in their veins.'

'you have no right. the children are their father's.'

'yes, their father's in heaven,' and she raised her hand like an ancient prophetess, while the other supported her bag over her shoulder. 'the children are the children of israel, and they must carry forward the yoke of the law.'

'and what do you propose?' he said, with a scornful sniff.

'give me the children. i will elevate them in the fear of the lord. you go your own godless way, free [201]of burdens—you and your christian poppet. you no longer belong to us. give me the children, and i'll go away.'

he looked at her quizzingly. 'you have been drinking, my good mother-in-law.'

'ay, the waters of affliction. give me the children.'

'but they won't go with you. they love their step-mother.'

'love that painted jade? they, with jewish blood warm in their veins, with the memory of their mother warm in their hearts? impossible!'

he opened the door gently. 'becky! joe! no, don't you come, madge, darling. it's all right. the old lady wants to say "good-day" to the children.'

the two children tripped into the passage, with napkins tied round their chins, their mouths greasy, but the rest of their persons unfamiliarly speckless and tidy. they stood still at the sight of their grandmother, so stern and frowning. henry shut the door carefully.

'my lambs!' natalya cried, in her sweetest but harsh tones, 'won't you come and kiss me?'

becky, a mature person of seven, advanced courageously and surrendered her cheek to her grandmother.

'how are you, granny?' she said ceremoniously.

'and joseph?' said natalya, not replying. 'my heart and my crown, will he not come?'

the four-and-a-half year old joseph stood dubiously, with his fist in his mouth.

'bring him to me, becky. tell him i want you and him to come and live with me.'

becky shrugged her precocious shoulders. 'he may. i won't,' she said laconically.

[202]'oh, becky!' said the grandmother. 'do you want to stay here and torture your poor mother?'

becky stared. 'she's dead,' she said.

'yes, but her soul lives and watches over you. come, joseph, apple of my eye, come with me.'

she beckoned enticingly, but the little boy, imagining the invitation was to enter her bag and be literally carried away therein, set up a terrific howl. thereupon the pretty young woman emerged hastily, and the child, with a great sob of love and confidence, ran to her and nestled in her arms.

'mamma, mamma,' he cried.

henry looked at the old woman with a triumphant smile.

natalya went hot and cold. it was not only that little joseph had gone to this creature. it was not even that he had accepted her maternity. it was this word 'mamma' that stung. the word summed up all the blasphemous foreignness of the new domesticity. 'mamma' was redolent of cold christian houses in whose doorways the old clo'-woman sometimes heard it. fanny had been 'mother'—the dear, homely, jewish 'mother.' this 'mamma,' taught to the orphans, was like the haughty parade of christian elegance across her grave.

'when mamma's shoes are to be sold, don't forget me,' natalya hissed. 'i'll give you the best price in the market.'

henry shuddered, but replied, half pushing her outside: 'certainly, certainly. good-afternoon.'

'i'll buy them at your own price—ah, i see them coming, coming into my bag.'

the door closed on her grotesque sibylline intensity, [203]and henry clasped his wife tremblingly to his bosom and pressed a long kiss upon her fragrant cherry lips.

later on he explained that the crazy old clo'-woman was known to the children, as to everyone in the neighbourhood, as 'granny.'