The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-07-29
A PROSELYTE.
From Black and White.

across the last sheet, and now the MS.
lay ready for the post among the debris
of printers proofs, new novels awaiting
review, etc, with which the writing table
was strewn.
One of the best known litterateurs IN
London, and brilliant conversationalist,
his tongue could be as scathing as his pen.
and it was said Of him, with regard to the
latter weapon of warfare, that in half
dozen polished sentences he could do more
toward damning book than any two Of
his compeers. A big, lOosely-made man,
Mr.. Everdene, with shrewd gray eyes and
the pessimism of modern. Studying his
face as he lounged by the window, his
hands in the pockets Of his smoking Jacket,
one could see that he had lively sense
of humor combined with his other char
acteristics, and understood the interest
his personality aroused
Presently. servant brought him Wis
iting card on a salver.
The lady would be obliged if you would
grant her an interview, sir"
Lady Hilyard," muttered Everdene,
reading the inscription. II can't recall
the name. Bother the woman, what does
she want2 HoweYer-ask her to come
up, Blake
When she entered, a fair, elegant wo-
man, of perhaps five and twenty, in an ir-
reproachable Partisan toilet, he was still
more convinced that he had not the privi-
lege of her acquaintance.
MIR Aubrey Everdeno2i she queried.
Mr., Everdene bowed.
Pray take a seat, madame
No she said. 4 have come to quar-
rel with you, and don't sit down in the
house of my enemies -
ITO quarrel with me-" His eyebrows
went up. The thought came to him that
his visitor was not in her right mind.
YES. Perhaps I had better explain
myself at once. am the author of
Fashion and Footlights""
Mr.. Everdene, standing perforce be-
cause she would, pulled his mustache,
while the fair stranger tarped her No. 3
shoe on the carpet with lmpatience and
looked pitchforks and daggers.
Fashion and Footights, " he re-
Elected aloud. " Fashion and Footlights.'
Ha"
Comprehension stole over his face and
with it slight amusement. He tshed
among pile of volumes and brought out
three bound with an elegance destined to
win the hearts of suburban circulating
libraries.
No" she said, you hanged and quar-
tered it,"
II am sorry May ask how you found
out that l was the culprit!"
"Oh, by accident. It's a long story. and
unimpOrtant, since you don't deny the
imputation. Now, MIR. Everdene know
il is very impertinent of me, a stranger,
to come TO your private address and worry
you. | am doing a very unusual thing
am afraid, and Mrs. Grundy would be
horrifed. But fools rush in, you know,
and widows are privileged! You must
have little patience with me because"
for the first time her lips relaxed and she
smiled a smile that was sweetness itself
well, just because I'm a woman and
you're a gentleman! Acknowledge the
| TRUTH now, on your honor. Don't you
think you were unnecessarily harsh to
| my poor little literary effort3"
NO" he said bluntly Il always give
my true opinion of things, and l consider
| your book had many faults" ~
If she had been man he would have
| said: Il thought it was damned bad ="
with the brusqueness of conviction, and
| probably declined to discuss the matter.
But to lady 1t was impossible to be rude.
| He regarded her absurdly unconventional
| presence with tolerant kindness.
"Of course, | admit that there are
| faults, but upon one or two points in your
criticism l cannot agree with you l
| should very much like to discuss them
with you. May Il"
Certainly" His mouth was twitching
under his heavy mustache. But don't
| you think, pending the verdict, that you
| had better sit down You will be fatigued.
| If you'll permit me to wheel this arm
| chair nearer the fire for you-so."
Having carefully arranged it so that
| she should face the light, lie seated him
self opposite her-the A, B, c of diplo-
macy, but she did not appear to notice it.
| She was drawing arabesques on the car
| pet with the point of her ivory handled
| umbrella.
81 should very much like to know" she
said what you think of my coming
| hereu"
81 think you are plucky-yes, and reck-
| lessly unconventional"
| Candid, at any rate! And ] like that"
| She looked up Now for the first IN
! dictment on the list Mr.. Everdene! You
| accuse me of improbability. | deny it,
His manner bordered ON preoccupation.
| In truth, he was thinking what wonder
| full lashes she had, and how becoming a
| flush of excitement could be to a clear,
| pale skin.
"You assert" she continued, warmly,
that it is ridiculous to suppose that a
man and woman of the world could fall in
| love at first sight, as l make my hero and
| heroine do, and that such proceedings
| are limited to boys and girls in their
teens and the pages of penny fiction.
should have thought that Mr.. Aubrey
Everdene would have shown wider SYM
| pathies."
Then you really believe, Lady Hill
yard, that adult, sensible people conceive
such abrupt attachments"
Il am convinced that it happens fire.
quently."
"Oh, come, not frequently"
| "Well-sOmetimes, - she amended. ~
could give you a dozen instances"
He lacked the heart to argue with her.
1t would have been like breaking but
tertly on a wheel. And after all, there
might be more sentiment in fin-de-siecle
| humanity than he thought; women have
wonderful intuition in these matters.
We'll, suppose we let that slide for the
moment and proceed to indictment num-
Der two, What other phrase of mine do
you take exception to-"
"Nou said that | had not the remotest
idea Of construction, and that Fashion
and Footlights was evidently specimen
of that Objectionable class of fiction which
! you regretted to see was growing so prev
alent-the amateur novel, born of vanity
and lack of wholesome occupation"
Her voice died away with a tremor.
! He had only stated the truth, but that
fact did not prevent the speechless Mr..
| Everdene from feeling rs If he had COM
mitted particularly brutal murder, and
the ghost of the victim had come TO ar
! ralgn him before all the people whose