Then--the house in which Schwartz and Heilig had their shop was burned. And when their safe was drawn from the ruins, they found that their insurance had expired four days before the fire. It was Schwartz's business to look after the insurance, but Otto had never before failed to oversee. His mind had been in such confusion that he had forgotten. He stared at the papers, stunned by the disaster. Schwartz wrung his hands and burst into tears. "I saw that you were in trouble," he wailed, "and that upset me. It's my fault. I've ruined us both." There was nothing left of their business or capital, nothing but seven hundred dollars in debts to the importers of whom they bought. Heilig shook off his stupor after a few minutes. "No matter," he said. "What's past is past." He went straightway over to Second Avenue to the shop of Geishener, the largest delicatessen dealer in New York. "I've been burned out," he explained. "I must get something to do." Geishener offered him a place at eleven dollars a week. "I'll begin in the morning," said Otto. Then he went to Paul Brauner. "When will you open up again?" asked Brauner. "Not for a long time, several years. Everything's gone and I've taken a place with Geishener. I came to say that--that I can't marry your daughter." Brauner did not know what answer to make. He liked Otto and had confidence in him. But the masses of the people build their little fortunes as coral insects build their islands. And Hilda was getting along--why, she would be twenty in four months. "I don't know. I don't know." Brauner rubbed his head in embarrassment and perplexity. "It's bad--very bad. And everything was running so smoothly." Hilda came in. Both men looked at her guiltily. "What is it?" she asked. And if they had not been mere men they would have noticed a change in her face, a great change, very wonderful and beautiful to see. "I came to release you," said Otto. "I've got nothing left--and a lot of debts. I--" "Yes--I know," interrupted Hilda. She went up to him and put her arm round his neck. "We'll have to begin at the bottom," she said with a gentle, cheerful smile. Brauner pretended that he heard some one calling him from the shop. "Yes right away!" he shouted. And when he was alone in the shop he wiped his eyes, not before a large tear had blistered the top sheet of a pile of wrapping paper. "I know you don't care for me as--as"--Otto was standing uneasily, his eyes down and his face red. "It was hard enough for you before. Now--I couldn't let you do it--dear." "You can't get rid of me so easily," she said. "I know I'm getting along and I won't be an old maid." He paid no attention to her raillery. "I haven't got anything to ask you to share," he went on. "I've been working ever since I was eleven--and that's fourteen years--to get what I had. And it's all gone. It'll take several years to pay off my debts, and mother must be supported. No--I've got to give it up."