Just Around the Corner: Romance en casserole

can see in her so much I don't know. Honest, mamma, she's such a dumbhead she can't talk ten words to a boy." "Girls don't need so much brains. I always say it scares the men off. Look at Gussie Graudenheimer--high school she had to have yet! What good does it do? Not a thing does that girl have--and her mother worries enough about it, too." "That's what Marcus says about her--he says she's too smart for him; he says he'd rather have a girl nice and sweet than too smart." Mrs. Katzenstein leaned her broom in a corner, daubed at the mantelpiece with a flannel cloth, and regarded her daughter surreptitiously through the mirror. "You had a nice time with Marcus last night? You've been out with him five times and still have nothing to say." "What's there to say, mamma? He's a fine boy and shows a girl a grand time. Last night it was sleeting just a little, and he had to have a taxi-cab. Honest, it was a shame for the money! Take it from me, Morris Adler walked Tekla. I saw them going to the Subway." "Well, what's what? Is that the end of it?" "Aw, mamma, how should I know? I can't read a fellow's mind! All I know is he--he's coming over to-night." "Don't you bother with putting those slippers away, Birdie; you just lie round and take it easy this morning. When a girl's going to have company in the evening she should rest up--me and Tillie can do this little work." Birdie wrapped herself in a crimson kimono plentifully splotched with large pink and blue and red and green chrysanthemums and snuggled into a white wicker rocking-chair. Her lips, warmly curved like a child's, were parted in a smile. "I don't want breakfast," she announced. "Irma Friedman quit it and lost five pounds in two weeks." "Papa and me were saying last night, Birdie, we aren't in a hurry to get rid of you; but such a young man as Marcus Gump any girl can be lucky to get. Aunt Batta said she heard for sure Loeb Brothers are going to make him manager of their new factory--think once, manager and three thousand a year!--just double his salary! Think of putting a young man like him in that big Newark factory!" "It's surely grand; but for what does it have to be in a place like Newark?" "Papa says that boy put March Hare boys' pants on the market for the Loebs. How grand for his mother and all, her a widow, to have such a son! Wasn't I right to invite her this afternoon?" "I'm the last one to say a word against Marcus. You ought to heard them last night talking on the side about him and his new position he might get--just grand! Jeanette's got a new stitch, mamma. It's not like eyelet or French, but sort of between the two, and grand for centerpieces. I could embroider a dresser-cover in a week." "I thought I'd have sardines this afternoon instead of cold tongue. For why should I make Mrs. Cohen feel bad that we don't buy at their delicatessen?" "I'll fix the cut-glass bowl with fruit for the center of the table." "It's like papa and me said last night, Birdie--a girl makes no mistake when she follows her parents' advice. Marcus Gump's own mother told me when I was introduced to her at Hirsch's yesterday afternoon, you're the first girl he ever took out more than two or three times." Birdie snuggled deeper in her chair and stretched her arms with the gesture of Aurora greeting the day. "Mamma," she said, softly, "what do you think he--he said I looked like last night?" "What?" "He said--he said--" Mrs. Katzenstein paused in her dusting. "He--said--Aw, mamma, I can't go telling it--so silly it sounds." "_Ach!_ For nonsense I got no time--such silliness for two grown-up children! That gets you nowhere. Plain talking is what does it." But suddenly the thridding and thudding of Mrs. Katzenstein's machinations died down. It was as if a steamboat had turned off its power and drifted quietly into its slip. She tiptoed to the table and straightened the cover, arranged the shades until they were precisely even one with the other, gave the new-made bed a final pat, and tiptoed to the door. "I forgot to order my finger-rolls for this afternoon," she said. * * * * * At two o'clock guests began to arrive. A heavy sleet clattered against the windows; the sky and the apartment houses across the way were shrouded in cold gray. Birdie drew the shades and tweaked on the electric lights; tables were grouped about the parlor, laid out with decks of cards, pencils and paper, and small glass dishes of candies. Mother and daughter had emerged from the morning like moths out of a chrysalis. Mrs. Katzenstein's black crepe-de-Chine, with cut-jet trimmings, trailed after her when she walked. She greeted her guests with effulgence and enthusiasm. "Come right in, Carrie! Tillie, take Mrs. Ginsburg's umbrella. I bet you got your winning clothes on to-day, Carrie; I can always tell it when you wear your willow plume and furs." Carrie Ginsburg flopped a remonstrating and loose-wristed hand at Mrs. Katzenstein. "Go 'way! That glass pickle-dish I won at Silverman's three weeks ago is the last luck I had. Your mamma's the winner--ain't she, Birdie? At my house she always carries off the prize. I bet I helped furnish her china-closet." "You should worry, Mrs. Ginsburg, when your husband owns the Cut-Glass Palace!" "You can believe me or not, Birdie, but Aaron's that particular if I take so much as a pin-tray out of stock he charges it up! When you get such an honest husband it's almost as bad as the other way. He don't get thanks for it." "Birdie, take Mrs. Ginsburg in the middle room and help off with her things. Hello, Mrs. Silverman! You're a sight for sore eyes. Why wasn't you down at the Ladies' Auxiliary on Wednesday? It was grand! Doctor Lippman spoke so beautiful, and there was coffee in the Sunday-school rooms after." Mrs. Silverman deposited a large and elaborate muff on the table and unbuttoned her full-length fur coat. "Such a day as it was Wednesday! Even to-day my Meena begged me not to come out. 'Mamma,' she said, 'to go out in such sleet and rain for a card party--it's a shame!' Then my Louis telephoned up from the store that if I went out I should take a cab. What that boy don't think of!" "He's a fine boy, Mrs. Silverman; and such a sweet girl he married." "It ain't for the money, Mrs. Katzenstein--believe me, it ain't; but why should I take a cab when it's only one block away to the Subway? I leave that to my children. Meena's the stylish one of our family--when it so much as sprinkles that girl has to have a cab." "Come right in, Mrs. Gump; I knew you wouldn't be afraid of a little weather. Here, let me take your umbrella." "It's a fine weather for ducks, Mrs. Katzenstein." "Just you go right in the middle room with Birdie and make yourself at home." "Come right with me, Mrs. Gump; me and mamma was so afraid maybe you wouldn't come." Birdie flitted in and out from parlor to bedroom; the languor of the morning had fallen from her. "Now, mamma, you and the ladies sit down at your tables. That's right, Mrs. Mince--you and Mrs. Kronfeldt play opposites, and Mrs. Ginsburg and Aunt Batta. Don't get excited, mamma. I'll fix the ladies in their places. Here, Mrs. Weissenheimer, you sit here between Mrs. Gump and mamma." "Look at that goil!" exclaimed Mrs. Mince, seating herself and taking a pinch of Birdie's firmly molded arm between thumb and forefinger. "I wish you'd look how thin she's got. Ain't that grand, though! I bet you don't drink water with your meals?" "Not a drop, Mrs. Mince; and no starchy food; no--" "Mrs. Mince," interrupted Mrs. Ginsburg, dealing the cards with skill and rapidity, "Doctor Adelberg told my sister-in-law that rolling on the floor two hundred times morning and night had got this diet business beat. All he says you got to be careful about is no water at meals. But with me it's like Aaron says--I keep him busy filling up my glass at the table." "I wish you'd see my Birdie diet, Carrie! The grandest things she won't eat! Last night for supper we had potato _Pfannkuechen_, that would melt in your mouth. Not one will she touch! Her papa says how she lives he don't know." "I wish my Marcus would diet a little. I always say to him he's just a little bit too stout--he takes after his poor father," said Mrs. Gump. "You can believe me or not, Mrs. Gump; but, so sure as my name is Mince, I got down from a hundred and ninety-two to a hundred and seventy-four in two months! Reducing ain't so bad when you get used to it." "Honest now, Mrs. Mince, how I wish my Marcus had such a determination! But that boy loves to eat--Didn't you see me discard, Mrs. Weissenheimer?" "Say, it wasn't so easy! How I worked you can ask my husband. I bend for thirty minutes when I get up in the morning; and if you think it's easy, try it--a cup of hot water and a piece of dry toast for breakfast; lettuce salad, no oil, for lunch; and a chop with dry toast for supper. What I suffered nobody knows!" "Batta, don't you see I lead from weakness?" "I wish you could see my husband's partner's daughter!" quoth Mrs. Kronfeldt. "I met her on Fifty-third Street last week, and she was so thin I didn't know her--massage and diet did it. She ain't feeling so well; but she looks grand--not a sign of hips!" From an adjoining table Mrs. Silverman waved a plump and deprecatory hand. "Ladies, don't talk to me about dieting! I know, because I've tried it. Now I eat what I please. It's standing up twenty minutes after meals that does the reducing. Last summer at Arverne every lady in the hotel did it, and never did I see anything like it! Take my word for it that when my husband came down for Saturday and Sunday he didn't know me!" "_Ach_, Mrs. Silverman, that was almost a grand slam! You should watch my discard!" "When I came home I had to have two inches taken out of every skirt-band." "You don't mean it!" "Feel, Birdie, my arm. Last summer your thumbs wouldn't have met." "I said to mamma when we saw you at the matinee last week, Mrs. Silverman, you're grand and thin!" "You try a little lemon in your hot water, Birdie. But you're not too stout--I should say not! You're grand and tall and can stand it." "Grand and tall!" echoed Mrs. Gump. "It's a wonder she isn't as thin as a match, Mrs. Gump, the way that girl does society! Last night it was two o'clock when she got home from Jeanette Lefkowitz's party." "I wish you'd heard the grand things Marcus said about you this morning at breakfast, Miss Birdie! I bet your ears were ringing. It's not often that he talks, either, when he's been out." "What's this grand news I hear, Mrs. Gump, about your son being taken in the firm and made manager of the new Loeb factory? It's wonderful for a boy to work himself up with a firm like that." "There's nothing sure about it yet, Mrs. Silverman. How such things get out I don't know. Marcus is a good boy; and, believe me or not, we think he's got a future with the firm. But you know how it is--there's nothing settled yet, and I don't believe in counting your chickens before they are hatched." "I wish it to you, Mrs. Gump," purred Mrs. Katzenstein. "I wish the good luck to you." "You don't make it diamonds, Mrs. Kronfeldt, unless you got to." "Who made that dress for you, Birdie? It fits fine." "That's the dressmaker on Lenox Avenue I was telling you about, Mrs. Adler," replied Mrs. Katzenstein, answering for her daughter. "Me and Birdie go to her for everything. Look at that fit and all!" "Grand!" "I'll give you her address if you don't tell everybody. You know how it is when you begin to recommend a dressmaker--up in their prices they go, and that's all the thanks you get."