The Dickinson press., 1895-09-21


and she met him Just outside the door
She inquired for him and he stepped
back into his paper-bestrewn den and
motioned to her to follow.
Il ain Jesse Arnold" ne said, in that
stiff way which he habitually adopted
when addressing strangers. what is
1t you wish to see me about?'
At the best the editor was not q
gOOd-lOOking man. and that day when
he stood between her and the window,
where the full beams of the evening
sun poured in and seemed to cxagger-
ate every defect of his person from the
most upright end of his short, straight
black hair to his disproportionately
large feet, he was painfully conscious
that his loosely knit body and swarthy
complexion never appeared to worse
advantage.
She took in the details of the room
and the general makeup of its Occu-
pant with one comprehensive sweep
Of her clear, blue eyes, aud then said,
simply:
II am Esther Lindsay If it does not
inconvenience you should like to talk
to you a little while about this last
letter you wrote me-"
There was but Il trace of his former
reserve left. and he took her hand inn
pulsively.
II am glad to see you," he said. with
a snile-the best part of Jesse Arnold
was his smile-"are You willing to let
me be your doctor and to take my pre-
scriptions faithfully"
NO" she said, flushing slightly un-
der his close scrutiny, II don't think
l am. l don't think l can. You don't
understand" she went on, earnestly,
encouraged by his look of friendly in
terest. II don't suppose there are any
men that are absolutely perfect, but
have my ideal of what a man should
be, and put him body and soul into
my STORY of the Steamer Kendrick.'
don't think that am Over-optimistic
when say that believe with all my
heart that such men live and that you
and have met them and can point
them out"
He shook his head in quiet contro-
version of her theory. She waited q
moment for him to speak, then ex-
claimed, impatiently:
"Well, why don't you say some
thing?"
Because" he answered, leaning far
back in his creaking chair and clasp
ing his hands behind his head, 81 see
quite plainly that whatever argument
l may present it will only antagonize
you. You may know such men as you
depict; do not and my experience has
been infinitely more varied than yours.
l know you will not heed me, but I
repeat that it will not pay you to live
in world peopled only by ideals. You
must associate with the real. Take
some man of your acquaintance, study
him; take human nature for your
model and you will be on the right
track"
"You have one view. and though 1t
may be right feel as though should
be giving up the best part of myself to
sacrifice my opinion to yours" she
said, with that touch of wisdom she
had lately assumed. But l suppose"
she continued, "that ii my stories are
up to the standard you will not de-
cline them on account of that one
technicality."
He smiled again. NO" he said,
mot OH that account"
TO have one article printed. even
though it be in the Ironton Inland
Weekly. does not give unquestioned
entree into the columns Of every other
periodical in the country, and for
many months after the appearance Of
her first story Esther Lindsay plodded
wearily over her literary way, which
was m uphill, sinuOus path. A score
of unfortunate tales We're added to the
unpublished library in the bureau
drawer before she found an outlet for
her ideas a second time. Then fol-
lowed five years of ups and downs.
No literary aspirant ever had a more
jealous guardian than she had in Jesse
Arnold. He eXulted in every victory
she achieved and deplored every de-
feat she met as keenly as though it
had been his own, and then one day
when some unexpected turn of ill-luck
made her despair of trying to push OH
further in the course she had mapped
out for herself he capped the climax
of his sympathy and interest by ask
ing her to marry him.
1t was surprise to her and she
promptly refused him.
II never expected this from you,"
she said, trying to temper her dismis-
sal with a kind of an apology, "you,
who know me so we'll. You may call
me dreamer, an idiot, if you like, but
I have my ideal still. and unless find
him in real life shall never marry"
I'm afraid you will always stay sin
gle, then" he rejoined sharply. II
thought, judging by your later writing,
that you had commenced to hold COM
nonsense views on some things, but
I suppose am mistaken. You may
change your mind yet"
"You shall never know It II I do,,"
she fared out angrily, and that ended
the first chapter Of their romance.
The outcome Of his pre-matrimonial
venture had been bitter disappoint-
ment to Jesse Arnold. He went back
to the office of the Ironton Inland
Weekly and tried to deaden his grief
In the duties and responsibilities de-
volving upon the editor-in-chief of a
great publication, and she, realizing
something Of how deeply she had
wounded him, tried to forget her pity
for him and to work out her own sal
vation and his as well, by writing
with renewed energy. Gradually her
stories took ON tone of reality and
broad sympathy with humanity, and
gradually her merit began to receive
general recognition. She never sent
any of her work to the Inland Weekly
for publication after that one unhappy
incident which left the friendship that
had existed between her and its editor
partially wrecked, and he only knew
her progress through the magazines,
to which she had at last become FIRE.
quent contributor
He watched with particular interest
the evolution of the character of hel
heroes. The June issue of a we'll
know monthly contained story thai
made his pulse throb and quiver will
and joy. He left the Inland Weekly
in charge Of u subordinate for a few
days and went down to see Esther
Lindsay.
when you wrote your STORY of th,
Steamer Kendrick' your hero wa,
your ideal of mankind, was he not 2
he asked as soon as he could speak t,
her alone.