and many other writers, even going so far as to venture upon Holmes, Emerson, and Shakespeare. Many a time her parents had to chide her for devoting every moment of her leisure time to reading, when she should have taken some physical recreation. She became extremely reticent, ate little, and commenced to fail in health, to the great grief of her parents who, though well imagining the cause, were, to their sorrow, powerless to render assistance. At last poor Malkeh was taken ill. She was in a high fever. A physician was called, but all the skill of all the Esculapions is wrecked when set in motion to cure wounds of the loving heart, inflicted by the point of Cupid's arrow. The doctor was a man of integrity, and seeing how visibly the patient changed when her mother came forward and said in a gentle whisper, "Malkeh Leben, here is a letter from Mr. Moshinski," he was convinced

that he had been correct in his diagnosis and told the parents that his presence would be of very little avail. Malkeh opened the letter with her trembling hands and a pleasant smile lit up her countenance as she read. When she had finished she turned her head to the wall to hide her tears. The poor parents were in despair over the condition of their beloved child, of the all they possessed on earth. And the poor old grandmother, too, was nearly heartbroken. One evening when unhappy Chatskel came home from work and beheld his daughter fading away, he said to Esther: "I am going to find some one to write to Mr. Moshinski for me at once, and tell him all, and His blessed Name shall arrange the rest!"

CHAPTER VIII

SHMERL MOSHINSKI was terror-stricken when he heard the news of Malkeh's illness, and at once made arrangements to hasten to New York.

There are occurrences in life of which the most skillful and exhaustive descriptions are but as a drop of water in the sea. To these happenings belongs the meeting of Shmerl Moshinski with the Shimanowski family. Shmerl remained in New York. There was nothing in New York which money could procure that was too costly for him to contribute to Malkeh's recuperating, and with the sacrificing nursing of the mother and grandmother she soon again was the same bright, lively, and charming Malkeh, a ray of balmy sunshine to the hearts which were beating so warmly for her.

One Sunday afternoon Shmerl Moshinski invited Malkeh to go to Central Park with him. For some reason none of the balance of the family, to whom Shmerl's cordial invitation was also extended, could make it possible to accompany them. They listened to the strains of the music, watched the passers-by, now and again exchanging their opinions about some grotesque caricatures and many interesting faces of intelligence, to be sure, in a most charitable manner. A young couple in animated conversation attracted Moshinski's special attention, and Malkeh, instinctively following every motion, yes, I would say, feeling every emotion of the soul of her companion, was also attracted by the happy, chaste, and sweet laughter of the young lady, and felt in her sensitive heart the joyous ecstasy which the mild and soft features of the young lady's escort betrayed.

Malkeh and Shmerl looked involuntarily at one another, and Malkeh dropped her bewitching eyes, blushingly playing with her parasol, forming some figures in the sand as if she wished to intrust her feelings to mother earth and to mark the spot for future visits to remind her of the eventful moment in which she, for the first time, was vouchsafed the unbounded pleasure of being alone in the company of Shmerl Moshinski. Any one of us who ever loved and does love knows that the lover loves seclusion, and that he is often jealous of the very breezes which echo his eulogies and his songs of adoration.

Shmerl broke the silence which ensued by asking: "Shall we walk on?" Malkeh answered by nodding her head, and they proceeded towards the museum. It was a warm day and Shmerl asked his companion for her parasol that he might open it and protect her from the sun's rays, and Mal