The Arkansaw traveler., 1884-07-12


 married the muse of literature for better tween doing that and being governess he would have far better opinion oi me and give me an important permanen, position on his paper immediately. Then l had heard so much about the editor oi the Arlington, all the girls at the read ing-room of the British museum were continually talking of him; and in an evil hour, armed with my most elaborate poeticai production, made my way to the office and requested, and, strange to say, was granted (for London editors ar 2 difficult of access) an interview. The re suit was pain, shame, confusion, discom- torture and, worst of all, failure. Heaven and earth, how hated that man as sa, in the most remote corner of the bus on my homeward journey-how vowed 10 be revenged and let him know some day whom he had sneered and jeered al. would put him in novel, in comedy. in burlesque. would carica,ure him with pen and pencil, would become famous merely to spite him, and refuse -oh, the joy of tha, thought would re- fuse to write serial for his hateful Eaga- zine. believe became almost eloquent in my internal denunciations of him and as an immediate practical, disdainful de- fance of him, got ou, at Oxford street and went into Nudes for another vol umn of Swinburne.
 In one way or another the editor of ,he Arlington was good deal in my thoughts during the next week, and the more l considered his condue, the more l detested him: my cheeks burned and my ears tingled as recalled his low, mocking tones and quiet annihilating glances. As for submitting story, essay. or articles to his tender mercies-never {,
 A fortnight passed, and my manuscript did not come back. My name was not Jones; but l really did live with Mrs. Kent, in Brown street and told her all about it: so should have received it had it been sent. Or course he had tossed it Tn conspicuous waste-paper basket tha, l had noticed under his table, and tha, was the end of it.
 One day, quite month after my en- counter with the autocrat of the Irkng- k0n, Mrs. Kent announced a visitor, a gentleman, to see me: and in momen, there entered the editor, more cool, calm, self-possessed and smiling than ever.
 The verses have not come back in quite the usual way" he said, sinking, unasked into the only easy-chair-I was at my writing-table, and meant to stay there. However, here they are, all safe, with few marginal notes. You do really leave beautifully bro Id clean mar gins-theyre quite tempting By the way, why haven't you sent me that story ?"
 haven, written it yet replied-l longed to add. and l never mean to, but somehow could not.
 Well. you must: prose pays bes. What other editors have you been inter- viewing la,ely:"
 !" None. l never want to see another in all my life.'
 He leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily; then, with mock gravity
 |" I'm glad to hear that, for you're really quite-dangerous. By the way, why did you say your name was jones: You might have known should nnd you out. Editors do find out everything in time. You are Miss Madeline Meredith, of Garth, and your brother Jeff and l were chums at Eton and Oxford.r
 "Oh," said, somewhat surprised. II didn't know.'
 "Of course not. How could you:'
 And I'm not Miss Meredith, of Garth, any longer" l said, with an effor, at proud composure. "Papa lost all his money. and our house was sold then papa died, and Jeff is with his ship at the Cape, and Aunt Adelaide didn't want me any longer; so came to London to Mrs. kent-she's my old nurse-and l earn my bread by my pen."
 l could not help telling him all that he seemed to make me, in spite of my self but l uttered the last words proudly, and he did not smile at all, but looked very grave.
 "I wonder, Miss Meredith, if you ever heard Jeff speak of Harold Cashelton ?''
 Oh, yes, often ."-and then l paused in some confusion. MT. Harold Cash elton had been my brothers "euide, and friend, and in one way and apother l had heard more than enough of him all my life, though, through my having no mother, had never been at Garth when Ieff's friends visited him. In fact, 1 had worshipped him secretly and afar off-from Jetf's de- scriptions-and made him the hero of more than one romance and now there he was, sitting in my easy-chair and chatting to me as if he had known me all my life-as, indeed. suppose he had in a way, for leff surely must have men, tioned me to him.
 After asking all sorts of questions about my brother, he stood up to go, and desired me not to forget the story but then more than ever l resolved not to write, as no doubt he would accept it from mere pity.
 Three months passed away, and was on terms of almost civility with my hated editor: but had written nothing for the Ayii.gfos-on that point l was obstin- ate-nor had told Mir. Cashelton very much about myself or my own affairs be- v0nd fhA SvSf <txdda~S hs,vr& rf >,-SI>-~>