"You won't find them so heavy," Molly Brandeis said
smoothly.
"I certainly would! Perhaps you would not. You're used to
that sort of thing. Rough work, and all that."
Aloysius, doubled up behind the lamps, knew what was coming,
from the gleam in his boss's eye.
"There may be something in that," Molly Brandeis returned
sweetly. "That's why I thought you might not mind taking
them. They're really not much heavier than a laden tray."
"Oh!" exclaimed the outraged Mrs. G. Manville Smith. And
took her plumes and her patronage out of Brandeis' Bazaar
forever.
That was as malicious as Molly Brandeis ever could be. And
it was forgivable malice.
Most families must be described against the background of
their homes, but the Brandeis family life was bounded and
controlled by the store. Their meals and sleeping hours and
amusements were regulated by it. It taught them much, and
brought them much, and lost them much. Fanny Brandeis
always said she hated it, but it made her wise, and
tolerant, and, in the end, famous.
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