"I want to ask you, as a man and a father, to see that this young lady is warned. She'll be anxious enough to keep quiet. If you do, there won't be any scandal--at least not from there." "I'll go down and warn her. Where is she? I'll speak to her father." "And have him make a row? No, there's only one way. Send your daughter to her." "But you don't know my daughter. She's a born--" Just in time Ganser remembered that he was talking to a stranger and talking about his daughter. "She wouldn't do it right," he finished. "She can go in and see the young lady alone and come out without speaking to anybody else. I'll promise you there'll be no risk." Ganser thought it over and decided to take Otto's advice. They discussed Mr. Feuerstein for several minutes, and when Otto left, Ganser followed him part of the way down the stoop, shaking hands with him. It was a profound pleasure to the brewer to be able to speak his mind on the subject of his son-in-law to an intelligent, appreciative person. He talked nothing else to his wife and Lena, but he had the feeling that he might as well talk aloud to himself. After supper--the Gansers still had supper in the evening, their fashionable progress in that direction having reached only the stage at which dinner is called luncheon--he put Lena into the carriage and they drove to Avenue A. On the way he told her exactly what to say and do. He stayed in the carriage. "Be quick," he said, "and no foolishness!" Lena, swelling and rustling with finery and homelier than before her troubles, little though they disturbed her, marched into the shop and up to the end counter, where Hilda was standing. "You are Miss Hilda Brauner?" she said. "I want to see you alone." Hilda looked her surprise but showed Lena into the living-room, which happened to be vacant. Lena could not begin, so intent was she upon examining her rival. "How plain she's dressed," she thought, "and how thin and black she is!" But it was in vain; she could not deceive her rising jealousy. It made her forget her father's instructions, forget that she was supposed to hate Feuerstein and was getting rid of him. "I am Mrs. Carl Feuerstein," she cried, her face red and her voice shrill with anger and excitement. "And I want you to stop flirting with my husband!" Hilda stood petrified. Lena caught sight of a photograph on the mantelpiece behind Hilda. She gave a scream of fury and darted for it. "How dare you!" she shrieked. "You impudent THING!" She snatched the frame, tore it away from the photograph and flung it upon the floor. As she gazed at that hair like a halo of light, at those romantic features and upturned eyes, she fell to crying and kissing them.