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And then the congregation rose, while the preacher behind the folds of the Union Jack read out the names of the Jews who had died for England in the far-off veldt. Every head was bent as the names rose on the hushed air of the synagogue. It went on and on, this list, reeking with each bloody historic field, recalling every regiment, British or colonial; on and on in the reverent silence, till a black pall seemed to descend, inch by inch, overspreading the synagogue. She had never dreamed so many of her brethren had died out there. Ah! surely they were knit now, these races: their friendship sealed in blood!

As the soldiers filed out of synagogue, she squeezed towards Simon and seized his hand for an instant, whispering passionately: ‘My lamb, marry her–we are all English alike.’

Nor did she ever know that she had said these words in Yiddish!

XII

Now came an enchanting season of confidences; the mother, caught up in the glow of this strange love, learning to see the girl through the boy’s eyes, though the only aid to his eloquence was the photograph of a plump little blonde with bewitching dimples. The time was not ripe yet for bringing Lucy and her together, he explained. In fact, he hadn’t actually proposed. His mother understood he was waiting for the year of mourning to be up.

‘But how will you be married?’ she once asked.

‘Oh, there’s the registrar,’ he said carelessly.

‘But can’t you make her a proselyte?’ she ventured timidly.

He coloured. ‘It would be absurd to suddenly start talking religion to her.’

‘But she knows you’re a Jew.’

‘Oh, I dare say. I never hid it from her brother, so why shouldn’t she know? But her father’s a bit of a crank, so I rather avoid the subject.’

‘A crank? About Jews?’

‘Well, old Winstay has got it into his noddle that the Jews are responsible for the war–and that they leave the fighting to the English. It’s rather sickening: even in South Africa we are not treated as we should be, considering—-‘

Her dark eye lost its pathetic humility. ‘But how can he say that, when you yourself–when you saved his—-‘

‘Well, I suppose just because he knows I was fighting, he doesn’t think of me as a Jew. It’s a bit illogical, I know.’ And he smiled ruefully. ‘But, then, logic is not the old boy’s strong point.’

‘He seemed such a nice old man,’ said Mrs. Cohn, as she recalled the photograph of the white-haired cherub writing with a quill at a property desk.

‘Oh, off his hobby-horse he’s a dear old boy. That’s why I don’t help him into the saddle.’

‘But how can he be ignorant that we’ve sent seven hundred at least to the war?’ she persisted. ‘Why, the paper had all their photographs!’

‘What paper?’ said Simon, laughing. ‘Do you suppose he reads the Jewish what’s-a-name, like you? Why, he’s never heard of it!’

‘Then you ought to show him a copy.’

‘Oh, mother!’ and he laughed again. ‘That would only prove to him there are too many Jews everywhere.’

A cloud began to spread over Mrs. Cohn’s hard-won content. But apparently it only shadowed her own horizon. Simon was as happily full of his Lucy as ever.

Nevertheless, there came a Sunday evening when Simon returned from Harrow earlier than his wont, and Hannah’s dog-like eye noted that the cloud had at last reached his brow.

‘You have had a quarrel?’ she cried.

‘Only with the old boy.’

‘But what about?’

‘The old driveller has just joined some League of Londoners for the suppression of the immigrant alien.’

‘But you should have told him we all agree there should be decentralization,’ said Mrs. Cohn, quoting her favourite Jewish organ.

‘It isn’t that–it’s the old fellow’s vanity that’s hurt. You see, he composed the “Appeal to the Briton,” and gloated over it so conceitedly that I couldn’t help pointing out the horrible contradictions.’

‘But Lucy—-‘ his mother began anxiously.

‘Lucy’s a brick. I don’t know what my life would have been without the little darling. But listen, mother.’ And he drew out a portentous prospectus. ‘They say aliens should not be admitted unless they produce a certificate of industrial capacity, and in the same breath they accuse them of taking the work away from the British workman. Now this isn’t a Jewish question, and I didn’t raise it as such–just a piece of muddle–and even as an Englishman I can’t see how we can exclude Outlanders here after fighting for the Outland—-‘