Mr. Whimpole had not disclosed the purpose of his visit, but he had already made it clear that he was not graciously disposed towards the Jew. Aaron was quite aware of this, but the only effect it had upon him was to render him exceedingly affable. Perhaps he scented a bargain, and was aware that mental irritation would interfere with the calm exercise of his judgment in a matter of buying and selling. "May I inquire," he said, pointing to the word "churchwarden" on the card, "whether this is your business or profession?" "I am a corn-chandler," said Mr. Whimpole. "Churchwarden, my dear," said Aaron, addressing his wife in a pleasant tone, "_and_ corn-chandler." For the life of him Mr. Whimpole could not have explained to the satisfaction of persons not directly interested, why he was angry at the reception he was meeting. That Aaron Cohen was not the kind of man he had expected to meet would not have been accepted as a sufficient reason. "I am not mistaken," said Mr. Whimpole, with a flush of resentment, "in believing you to be a Jew?" "You are not mistaken," replied Aaron, with exceeding urbanity. "I am a Jew. If I were not proud of the fact, it would be folly to attempt to disguise it, for at least one feature in my face would betray me." "It would," said Mr. Whimpole, dealing a blow which had the effect of causing Aaron to lean back in his chair, and laugh gently to himself for fully thirty seconds. "When you have quite finished," said Mr. Whimpole, coldly, "we will proceed." "Excuse me," said Aaron, drawing a deep breath of enjoyment. "I beg you will not consider me wanting in politeness, but I have the instincts of my race, and I never waste the smallest trifle, not even a joke." A little tuft of hair which ran down the centre of Mr. Whimpole's head--the right and left banks of which were devoid of verdure--quivered in sympathy with the proprietor's astonishment. That a man should make a joke out of that which was generally considered to be a reproach and a humiliation was, indeed, matter for amazement; nay, in this instance for indignation, for in Aaron Cohen's laughter he, Mr. Whimpole himself, was made to occupy a ridiculous place. "We are loth," continued Aaron, "to waste even the thinnest joke. We are at once, my dear sir, both thrifty and liberal." "We!" exclaimed Mr. Whimpole, in hot repudiation. "We Jews I mean. No person in the world could possibly mistake you for one of the chosen." "I should hope not. The idea is too absurd."