Chapter XIII: The Acme Furnishing Co

“I think you are the most ungrateful and undutiful child,” said Mrs. Friedberg, surveying her youngest daughter with keen disapproval. “Your Pa and I have done our very best for you ever since you were born; and now that we are anxious to get you settled, you behave just like a silly schoolgirl, doing your utmost to thwart our wishes. It’s all the fault of those penny novelettes you’ve been reading. Now, remember this: I forbid you to bring any more of those trashy things into the house; and every one I find I’ll burn. Do you hear?”

Dinah stared back sullenly. “Yes, I hear,” she retorted pertly. “I should be deaf if I didn’t. You talk loud enough, anyhow, ma.”

Then she sat down at the table, and went on with her interrupted letter to David Salmon, which had been the cause of her mother’s outburst of wrath. It really was most annoying from Mrs. Friedberg’s point of view. The Rev. Isaac Abrahams had found a very nice man possessing the necessary qualifications for a _chosan_;[20] and Dinah, taking a foolish dislike to him at their first meeting, refused point-blank to have anything to do with him, scarcely treating him with civility. Moreover, she declared her intention of marrying David Salmon or nobody: and as David earned barely sufficient to gratify his extravagant tastes, much less keep a wife, such a decision was ridiculous in the extreme.

“What fault have you to find with Mr. Finkelstein?” her mother asked in exasperation. “He may not be good-looking, but looks are not everything. He’s got a good business, which is the chief thing, and I’m sure he is a very amiable sort of fellow. Girls are so particular nowadays. I suppose you would prefer one of those penny-novelette young men, with blue eyes and a curly moustache, eh?”

Dinah shrugged her shoulders. “I won’t consent to marry a man I couldn’t kiss,” she jerked out, nibbling the end of her pen.

“What nonsense!” rejoined Mrs. Friedberg, smiling in spite of herself. “I have never heard of such a thing. Besides, if it comes to that, I see no reason why you should not kiss Mr. Finkelstein.”

The girl made a grimace, and shuddered. “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Fancy kissing _that_! Why, he’s got a beard like a door-mat. He looks as though a visit to the Hampstead swimming-baths wouldn’t do him any harm, either. There is too much of the _Schneider-how-ye-vas?_ about him for me, thank you, Ma. You can tell him that I am already engaged.”

“But you are not already engaged,” her mother rejoined with anger. “A girl is not engaged until she has the ring. I wish you would have done with this nonsense, Dinah. You cannot marry David while he is in his present position; and you are not going to waste the best years of your youth in waiting for him. So understand that.”

Dinah went on writing in silence, knowing that words were useless in the present instance. When her mother had gone out of the room she produced a small case from her pocket, and, opening it, disclosed a pretty pearl and diamond ring, which she slipped on her finger. It was not half as valuable as Celia’s had been, but Dinah was quite satisfied with it, and wore it with a sense of proud possession. Her lover was at present away on business in the north of England, but she heard from him nearly every day. He always addressed his letters to the care of the Brookes, next door--Harold very kindly handing them to her over the garden-wall,--so her mother had not the slightest idea that the two refractory young people were carrying on such an ardent correspondence.

As soon as his engagement with Celia Franks was broken off, David had gone to Dinah for consolation; and the merry dark-eyed girl had responded to his attentions with a spontaneity that was quite refreshing. She had always been fond of him, even when she had snubbed him so cruelly, and, now that he was free, she did not hesitate to tell him so.

Before he went away, he proposed to her, and gave her the ring; but on account of the opposition of her parents, they decided to keep their engagement strictly private for the present. Dinah, however, was not quite happy about it. The prospect of being engaged for an indefinite period did not please her--it was too vague. One thing was certain, they could not get married without Mr. and Mrs. Friedberg’s consent, for to do so would mean the loss of the dowry and wedding-presents. It was a very mundane reason; but it had to be considered, for they could not possibly afford to dispense with such matrimonial perquisites.

Whilst David was away, Dinah was struck with an idea. She would try to enlist the sympathy of her brother-in-law, Mike Rosen, who was her lover’s employer, and see what good that would do. So she waited for an opportunity; and one morning, when her mother had gone to Lottie’s house in Canonbury for the day, jumped on an omnibus for the city. She hoped Mike would not mind her going to see him at his place of business, but she knew that if she went to Fitzjohn’s Avenue, Adeline was sure to be there, and she wanted to see him alone.

The Acme Furnishing Company’s premises were situated in the neighbourhood of Tottenham Court Road. Dinah found them with little difficulty, for, by dint of extensive advertising, they were well-known. She stood outside and surveyed the well-stocked windows with admiration. Each window represented a bedroom or sitting-room in miniature, fitted with all the latest improvements in the furnishing line. Mike Rosen must be very rich to be the owner of such a magnificent establishment, she thought.

Her intention was to go in and inquire for her brother-in-law straightway; but with her usual aptitude for fun, she thought she would amuse herself first. So with a bold step and a merry twinkle in her eye, she pushed open the swing-door, and stepped inside. A young man in a fashionable frock coat came forward to attend to her requirements. Dinah put on her most dignified manner.

“I have come,” she said, sinking on to a comfortable settee with an air of importance, “in answer to an advertisement of yours in the _Daily Post_, in which you term yourselves the _benefactors of mankind_.”

“Yes, madam?”

“You offer to accommodate young couples just about to get married, with furniture on the easy-payment system. I am just about to get married, and I want to pay easily, if you can understand.”

“Quite so, madam?” The young man regarded her with gravity. “How many rooms would you require to furnish?”

“I can hardly tell you yet. We have not yet decided whether it is to be a little back room in Bloomsbury or a villa in Hampstead. It all depends on circumstances. Lots of things depend on circumstances, don’t they?” she added with a sweet smile.

“Quite so, madam.” The young man thought her a somewhat queer customer.

“I have not come to order anything to-day,” she continued with dignity. “I’ve only come to inspect. You say in your advertisement ‘_Inspection invited_,’ you know. By-the-by, if we can’t pay up to date, I suppose you come and grab the chairs and tables, don’t you? That is a disadvantage--a decided disadvantage.”

The clerk cleared his throat. “Well, madam,” he replied, “we always endeavour to exercise the greatest leniency possible. Of course, before we send any goods to your--ahem--place of abode, we shall have to satisfy ourselves as to your ability to pay. I do not suppose you will object to our making full inquiries?”

“Oh, not at all,” said Dinah, complacently. Why should she object?

“Unlike some firms, we conduct our business on thoroughly honourable and equitable principles,” the young man went on to assure her. “Then there is our free insurance scheme. If your husband were to die----”

“Oh, but he is not going to die,” the girl interposed quickly. “Why, he has only just begun to live!”

“Just so, madam; but life at best is uncertain. I was going to say that, were your husband unfortunately to die, the furniture would be yours--as his widow--without any further payment.”

“How nice!” Dinah murmured. “You give me the cold shivers down my back. Widow indeed! And I’m not even married yet. Can I see your chief this morning?”

The clerk looked dubious. “That is scarcely necessary, madam, at this stage of the proceedings,” he replied. “The head of our firm is a very busy man----”

But Dinah had espied a familiar figure looming in the background--a figure with a broad waistcoat and a heavy gold chain.

“Mike!”

“Dinah! Why, what an unexpected treat this is, little girl!”

He came forward to greet her, his good-natured face beaming with pleasure. Dinah bowed with a saucy air of apology to the astonished clerk, and favoured her brother-in-law with a hearty kiss. Then she linked her arm in his, and passed down a narrow passage which was lined on either side with bedsteads of every description.

“Mike,” she said impressively, “I have come to talk to you about something very serious. I am going to take you into my confidence; that is why I have come down here. It is just between ourselves. Do you understand?”

Mike nodded gravely. “Perfectly,” he replied. “You will do well to take me into your confidence. But it is just my luncheon-time. Thompson, lay another knife and fork, please”--this to another of his numerous clerks. “Things of importance are much better discussed after lunch, you know. You are not in a hurry to get home?”

“No, Ma is out, so it doesn’t matter. You are not vexed with me for coming here, Mike?”

“Not at all, not at all. Quite delighted, I assure you. It’s not often I get a visitor to lunch, though Adeline brings the kiddie occasionally.”

He led the way up a short flight of stairs to a room marked “private,” and, opening the door, stood back for Dinah to enter. Although not large, it was a sumptuously furnished room, fitted with all the comforts that the owner could possibly desire. Red was the predominant tone, the wall-paper, carpet, hangings and upholstery being all of that colour. A large pigeon-hole cabinet and desk combined took up the whole of one wall, whilst a small card-table bore testimony to the fact that the proprietor was not averse to a little recreation in the midst of work. One picture only adorned the walls: it was an enlarged portrait of the woman he cared most about--his wife.

Dinah inspected her surroundings with undisguised approval, then sat down to the table, which gleamed with the finest cutlery and silver.

Suddenly something pink streaked with fat caught her eye. She glanced at it casually at first, then fixedly, and finally gasped in astonishment.

“Mike, you humbug!” she exclaimed in a tone of pained surprise. “It’s--it’s--_ham_!”

Mike felt himself go red down to the back of his neck. What an idiot he was not to have ordered the unlawful viand to be removed before the girl entered the room--but he had scarcely had time.

“Yes,” he replied with exaggerated carelessness, “my doctor recommends it as an extremely nutritious article of food. Adeline objects to have it in the house at all at home, so I am obliged to partake of it down here. However, I will not hurt your feelings by offering you any. This is a very tender chicken.”

He proceeded to carve the bird, handing a well-filled plate of it to his guest.

Dinah’s face fell. Looking longingly at the ham, she began to trifle with her chicken.

“I suppose I had better not ask whether this is _kosher_?” she inquired diffidently.

“Oh, it is quite _kosher_; it came from Abrahams’,” Mike answered quickly. “I would not offer it to you unless it were.”

He poured out two wine-glasses full of port: it was ’57 port. Dinah clinked her glass against his, and drank. Then she looked at the ham again, and sighed.

“Have a bit?” suggested her brother-in-law, with a sly wink.

She shook her head, but it was not a very decided kind of shake. Then, after a moment’s pause, she said, with a feeble attempt at casuistry--

“Mike, the ham has rubbed shoulders with the chicken. They are both on the same dish, therefore one is no more _kosher_ than the other. I think you may give me a piece just about the size of a sixpence. I’ve never tasted it before in my life.”

“Certainly,” he replied with alacrity. “Here, give me your plate. If you eat a little bit, it’s just as bad--or as good--as eating the whole lot. There--now what do you think of it?”

Dinah cut a small piece, and pricked it with her fork. “‘Get a piece of pork,’” she murmured softly, “‘and stick it on a fork, and give it to the----’” Here she popped it into her mouth. “Oh, Mike, it’s positively scrumptious. But you won’t tell Ma, will you?”

“Oh no, I won’t split on you,” he replied cheerfully. “You see, we are both in the same boat.”

Pushing back his chair, he rose from the table; for a ring on the telephone claimed his attention.

“Do you know who that was?” he said, when he sat down again. “It was Mr. Salmon talking from Manchester. I would have told him you were here, but there was no time.”

“It is about David that I have come to see you,” Dinah began, somewhat nervously. “You must not tell anybody yet, but we are engaged.”

Her brother-in-law raised his eyebrows. “You don’t say so!” he exclaimed. “Why, I thought that Ma----”

“Yes, Ma and Pa are both against it,” she hastened to explain. “That is the trouble. But I have quite made up my mind not to have Mr. Finkelstein or any other snuffy old creature they may choose to rake up for me. I am going to marry the man I love, and that is David. Oh, I love him so much, Mike--awfully much! I feel I shall do something desperate if anything happens to prevent us from marrying.”

She spoke quickly, and evidently meant what she said. Mike puckered up his brow, and having obtained the requisite permission, lit a cigar.

“It’s a pity,” he said between the puffs. “Couldn’t you place your affections on somebody more reliable than Salmon? I don’t say he’s not a nice lad--in fact, I rather like him myself; but he is not steady, he doesn’t stick to his business. I should like to see you comfortably married, Di, but to somebody with more backbone than David Salmon.”

“I know he is not a saint,” she answered eagerly. “I don’t want him to be. I couldn’t stand a paragon of perfection for more than a week. But he is not bad, Mike. You have no idea how good-hearted he really is. And he has promised me not to bet or gamble any more. Oh, I’ll make him stick to his business when we are married; you don’t know what a tremendous influence I have over him.”

“H’m!” Mike grunted, and scratched the back of his head. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to give him a lift,” she pleaded earnestly; “to put him in a position that will enable him to marry me with the consent of my parents. I wouldn’t ask you to help us if you were not such a thoroughly good fellow, Mike. You give away such large sums in charity, that I thought you wouldn’t mind going in for a little of that charity which begins at home. You offered to take David into partnership when he married, you know.”

“Ah, yes, but that was a different matter. If he had married Celia Franks he would have had her money to invest. I withdrew my offer directly the girl so foolishly threw away her fortune. You cannot expect me to take him into partnership if he hasn’t a farthing to put into the business--now, can you, Dinah?”

“No, I suppose not,” she answered dejectedly, scarcely knowing what to say.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. The same clerk who had attended to Dinah came in to state that the head of a contemporary firm wished to see Mr. Rosen on important business.

Dinah jumped up and drew on her gloves, thinking she had taken up enough of her brother-in-law’s valuable time. Mike flicked the ash off his cigar.

“Well, I will have a serious conversation with David when he returns,” he said, as the clerk withdrew. “And if I can see my way to promote him, I will do so, for your sake, little girl. Anyway, I’ll give you all your house-furniture for a wedding-present, and a handsome cheque besides. So keep your pecker up, Di; _I’ll see you through_.”

Then, with a hasty farewell, he ordered the clerk to call a hansom and pay the driver. Dinah appreciated the attention, and quite enjoyed her free ride home. She was delighted with the result of her mission, for she knew that her brother-in-law would be as good as his word.

As for Mike, he went home and told his wife everything; and, as usual, asked her advice. Adeline hemmed and hawed, and cross-questioned her spouse until he marvelled at the shrewdness of womankind. Finally she said--

“Di won’t be happy till she gets him, Mike. We had better let her have him, and between us all we’ll manage to keep him straight.”

And so it was, that within the next fortnight the engagement between Dinah Friedberg and David Salmon was formally announced.