“And I’m no different to the other chaps at the office,” Walter added, in an aggrieved tone; “but just because old Blank has taken a dislike to the name of Jew, I’ve got the sack. I wish I’d never been born a Jew.” “Oh, you must not say that,” Raie said reprovingly. “It is a great privilege to be a Jew, and if Christians believed what they preach, they would give us the honour which is our due.” This little speech was _à la_ Lady Montella, whose views the girl unconsciously imbibed. The Emanuels regarded Raie as the oracle of the family, and looked up to her as living on a higher plane than themselves. Mrs. Emanuel was a widow, with six children and a small income. It had been no easy matter to rear and educate these children, even though the eldest had been taken off her hands at the age of fourteen. The second girl, Harriet, had just become engaged to the son of a wealthy stockbroker, which was a matter for congratulation to the Emanuels and their relatives. Harriet was a bright girl of seventeen, with what her mother called a “taking” manner. She contributed to the family purse by teaching music at a kindergarten school, and was out when Raie arrived. “We’ve been looking at houses all the week,” Mrs. Emanuel said, when the girl inquired after her sister. “The sooner they get settled the better. I don’t believe in long engagements; never did.” Raie considered a moment. “I wonder if Harriet will be happy with Harry Levi,” she said thoughtfully. “He is not a man I could care for in the least.” “You never did like him,” her mother remarked; “but then you’ve not got to marry him, so it doesn’t matter. He seems affable enough, I think. Have you any reason for your dislike?” “Only that the Montellas do not approve of his family. Harry Levi’s father waxed fat over the Consolidated Trust concern, and Lionel says that Harry himself is not over-scrupulous. Lionel Montella would not say a thing like that unless there were good reason.” Mrs. Emanuel regarded her contemplatively. “You seem to think a great deal of Lionel Montella,” she rejoined. “You always talk about him as if he were a prophet or a prince. I shall not be at all surprised when I hear that he has fallen in love with you and asked you to marry him. Well, it would be a great _simcha_[2] for us, I am sure. The _Jewish Chronicle_ would give you a notice—‘_A marriage has been arranged between Mr. Lionel Selim Montella, M.P., only son of Sir Julian and Lady Selim Montella, and Miss Raie Emanuel, eldest daughter of Mrs. Joshua Emanuel, late of Liverpool._’ Wouldn’t it make the Canonbury people sit up, eh? Instead of Mrs. Abrahams snubbing me like she does, she would come and implore me to attend her next dinner-party; and I would say—‘So sorry: I’ve promised to dine with dear Lady Montella.’” Footnote 2: Joy. Raie put up her hand, as though to stay her mother’s garrulity.