followed like a child eagerly � his brain set on the flight it led him through a country where all was promise of milk and honey he followed sure that the spirit would soon choose a flower then he would capture it often it seemed to settle he approached with heart but lo i when the net was withdrawn it was empty a look of pain and perplexity came upon his face he remembered the lodging at seven shillings a week in the court he had suffered there but it seemed to him that he was suffering more he had changed his surroundings but he had not changed success and failure despair vain fortune and hope joy and sorrow lie within and not without ns his pain lay at his heart s root he could not pluck it forth and its gratification seemed more than ever impossible he changed his position on the couch suddenly his thoughts said perhaps i am mistaken in the subject perhaps that is the reason perhaps there is no play to be extracted from it perhaps it would be better to abandon it and choose another for a few seconds he the literary horizon of his mind no no he said bitterly this is the play i was born to no other subject is possible i can think of nothing this is all i can feel or see it was the second act that now defied his efforts it had once seemed clear and of exquisite proportions now no second act seemed possible the subject did not seem to admit of a second act and clasping his forehead with his hands he strove to think it out he remembered that in the second act drawn by irresistible instinct lady hay ward visits the the of the desert is upon her she questions them about their wanderings learning eventually that the old fortune is her mother although lady loves her husband vain foi she is unconsciously drawn toward a young and it is at tbe close of the act that this note of the attraction of race out of which the story proceeds is first touched upon but though clear and precise in its conception this act as the author recognized was overgrown with a growth of subordinate idea he felt that all subordinate idea must be and nothing left but just enough to explain the drama that was to follow but how to secure the main theme and preserve it like a thread of gold to the end in his distraction he would take down book after book never finding the one he wanted he would turn over newspapers or dashing out of the house and wandering about in the park the strain of his thoughts first relieved by the chatter of a bird or an effect of light would unconsciously steal back to lady and very often before he was aware the dense and of the act would grow suddenly clear and measure out in ways and he feeling strong and capable of achievement would hasten home fearing he might lose the precious inspiration see him on a wet september morning hurrying through the deep grass vain fortune his feet fearing only lest the idea should fade before he reaches the white sheet of paper as he approaches his study it within him and he waits not to throw off his boots but sits down at once and writes but as he draws to the end of the first few the scene in his brain and goes out like a dying light see him reading and re reading the few lines he has written knowing them to be worthless tortured by a of the perfection required and by the sight of the that is see him rising from his writing table with blank despair upon his face unable to bear any longer the mocking of the sheet of paper he throws himself on the couch absorbed in despair and then a curious painful look round the corners of the mouth and looks out of the eyes � the pained pinched look of impotent desire any distraction from the haunting pain now becoming is welcome and he answers with a glad come in i the knock at the door tm sorry said mrs for disturbing you but i should like to know what fish you would like for your dinner � vain fortune or in literary problems as you are i dare say these details are very but i notice that later in the day laughed i find such details far more agreeable than literature i can do nothing with my play aren t you getting on this morning no not very well what do you think of i think very likes very well then ill order as mrs was about to withdraw she said i m sorry you are not getting on what stops you now that second act come you are not very busy i ll read you the act as it stands and then tell you how i think it ought to be altered nothing helps me so much as to talk it over not only does it clear up my ideas but it gives me desire to write my best work has always been done in that way i really don t think i can stay if heard that you had been reading your play to me i m tired of hearing of what thinks vain fortune i can put up with a good deal and i know that it is my duty to show much forbearance but there is a limit to all things i this was the first time mrs had seen him show either excitement or anger she hardly knew him in this new aspect in a moment the calm of the saxon had dropped from him and some emphasis appeared in his speech � this hysterical he is a sore burden tears about this and sighs about 