"I give you my word, Ike, she's his favourite niece," Morris concluded,
"_and he ain't got no children of his own_."

* * * * *

The ensuing week was a busy one for all concerned. Abe was occupied in
the store with an unusual rush of spring trade, Morris had his hands
full in the office and cutting-room; but Miss Cohen and Ike Feinsilver
had been busiest of all, for in less than six days after their visit to
the theatre a solitaire diamond-ring sparkled on the third finger of the
lady's left hand.

"Well, Mawruss," Abe said ten days later, "I suppose you fired Miss
Cohen?"

"Me fire Miss Cohen?" Morris exclaimed. "I'm surprised to hear you that
you should talk that way, Abe. What for should I fire Miss Cohen?"

"Why, last week you said you was going to fire her, ain't it?"

"Last week," Morris replied, "was another day. If I ain't got no more
sense than that I should go to a fine young lady like Miss Cohen, and
say, 'Miss Cohen, you're fired,' after she worked for us five years, and
her uncle also a good customer, I should be sorry, Abe."

"Then, we're going to keep her, after all--what?" Abe said.

"No, we ain't going to keep her," said Morris. "We're going to lose
her."