He sighed sympathetically, and then, as though with an effort, turned back to his bench. "If the old man wakes up and finds I'm not working," he remarked, "he'll be annoyed." "You can get on with your work, then," she replied. "I'm going to talk to him for a minute or two. Be good." She gave him a little backward nod, enigmatically encouraging, and left him, closing the door softly behind her. She made her way into the stuffy little parlour and shook her grandfather by the shoulder. "Wake up, old man," she exhorted. "Nice thing going to sleep over the fire in the middle of the afternoon!" "Eh, what--what, my dear?" he exclaimed, sitting up. "It's Rosa, is it? Ah! How beautiful you look, Rosa! But those furs--were they very expensive, my dear?" "They were rather," the girl admitted complacently, "but I'm earning good money and I want to get married." "To get married, my dear," the old man repeated, a little vaguely. "Well, well, you find some young man with good prospects, and money--money in his hand, mind----" "I've found the young man I'd like to marry," Rosa interrupted. "He's your assistant down there." Abraham Letchowiski stretched out his hands in protest. He shook his head vigorously. "No, no, my tear!" he cried. "You cannot marry him. He is just a journeyman repairer. He has no money saved. He spends too much on his clothes." "He's a clever workman, isn't he?" "Oh, he is clever," the old man admitted, "very clever indeed, but there are many clever people in the world who have not much money." "Look here," the girl expostulated, "you're going to leave David and me your money, aren't you? You've no one else?" "But I have not much," the old man whined, "and I may live quite some time yet." "You're getting too old to work," the girl declared. "Why not take him into partnership?" "Bartnership?" the old man shrieked. "Ah, my tear, you do not understand!" "I understand the way to deal with you, anyhow," Rosa retorted. "You wait!" She walked to the end of the passage and raised her voice. "Mr. Levy, please to come here." There was a smothered reply, and after a few moments he appeared. Abraham Letchowiski, now thoroughly awake, sat in the chair, wringing his hands. "Rosa," he exclaimed, "I implore you! Rosa! Listen to me!" She cut him short. She seemed, somehow, to dominate the little room--strong, forceful and determined. "Mr. Levy," she announced, "grandfather has something to say to you. He makes such a muddle of things that, although it is rather embarrassing, I shall say it myself. David and I are his heirs. He has saved a great deal of money." "No, no, my tear--no!" the old man interrupted tearfully.