"Some other time," said Morris, walking with Ike toward the store-door. Then he sank his voice to a confidential whisper. "That's a fine girl, Miss Cohen," he went on. "Comes of fine family, too. She's Max Cohen's niece. You know Max Cohen. He's the Beacon Credit Outfitting Company. He's a _millionaire_, Ike. If he's worth a cent, he's worth a hundred thousand dollars!" Ike turned on him an awed yet searching look as they clasped hands again in parting. "I give you my word, Ike, she's his favourite niece," Morris concluded, "_and he ain't got no children of his own_." * * * * * The ensuing week was a busy one for all concerned. Abe was occupied in the store with an unusual rush of spring trade, Morris had his hands full in the office and cutting-room; but Miss Cohen and Ike Feinsilver had been busiest of all, for in less than six days after their visit to the theatre a solitaire diamond-ring sparkled on the third finger of the lady's left hand. "Well, Mawruss," Abe said ten days later, "I suppose you fired Miss Cohen?" "Me fire Miss Cohen?" Morris exclaimed. "I'm surprised to hear you that you should talk that way, Abe. What for should I fire Miss Cohen?" "Why, last week you said you was going to fire her, ain't it?" "Last week," Morris replied, "was another day. If I ain't got no more sense than that I should go to a fine young lady like Miss Cohen, and say, 'Miss Cohen, you're fired,' after she worked for us five years, and her uncle also a good customer, I should be sorry, Abe." "Then, we're going to keep her, after all--what?" Abe said. "No, we ain't going to keep her," said Morris. "We're going to lose her." "_Lose_ her! What d'ye mean?" Morris smiled in a superior way. "Abe," he said, "you ain't got no eyes in your head. Ain't you noticed that ring on Miss Cohen's left hand?" Abe stared in astonishment. "It's a beauty, Abe," Morris went on. "A bright young feller like Ike Feinsilver don't get stuck, no matter what he buys. He got it through Plotkin's cousin down on Maiden Lane." Abe sat down to ponder over the news. "You mean," he said at length, "that Ike Feinsilver, of the Hamsuckett Mills, is going to marry Miss Cohen?" "You guessed it right, Abe," Morris replied. "And who fixed it up?" said Abe. Morris slapped his chest proudly. "I did," he replied. Abe smoked on in silence. "I suppose I must congratulate her, Mawruss?" he said at length, starting to rise. "There's no hurry," said Morris. "I let her go uptown this morning. She wanted to do some shopping." Abe sat down again. "You done a smart piece of work, Mawruss, I must say," he admitted. "Ike's a good feller, and Miss Cohen'll make him a good wife, even if she ain't a good bookkeeper. Also, we done a good turn to Max Cohen. I bet he's pleased. I wonder he ain't been around yet."