Delaware gazette and state journal. (Wilmington, Del.) 1883-1902, 1899-03-09


ie toward the close Of a rainy day and
all afternoon have been listening to
the pattering Of heavy drops on the
shingled roof. / have holding in my
hand careiessly a worn leather book.
My diary. Only once in my life did
succeed in filling up every department
of the 365. Journals are very we'll.
but only people who lead cliosteral
lives should keep a diary. Diaries are
not for those people whose existence is
. whirlpool: for such the blank pages
are an added disturbance, haunting
wilderness, an I. o. U. that demands
satisfaction. At the outset one begins
q diary as one practices New Years
resolutions, enthusiastically. The first
few days Of the year the entries are
ricn and full of self analysis. Then,
gradually, the interest trails off until
you get to Mark Twain's condition.
Got up, washed, went to bed" So /
put my little worn leather book down
with sigh. Those things are 50 i'm
possible A Journal is very different
thing How barren our literature would
be without the journals of some famous
men!
My table IS rather bare Of new books
today. That is. of any worth mention
ing, but in my hand have a letter
from friend who inst paid an after
noon visit 10 that interesting woman,
Marie Corelli. You will listen TO it.
will you not. | am sure you will find
il interesting. This woman, Her Ma
jesty's fayorite authoress, is Just now
attracting a deal Of attention in the
London literary world.
''They tell that 500 people cross and
recross Regent Circus daily, but am
sure no more delighted soul passed by
this February afternoon than |, when
l stepped to one of the cab stands 10
select a hanson to drive to the home
of Marie Corelli, where she had bid
me drink tea with her.
sit was one of those chilly. foggy
days, often met with there, and as we
drove from Regent Circus to Long
Ridge Road, Earl's Court South West,
drive Of about half hour, | kept
wondering would be paid for my dis
comfort. Drawing up in front of q
at my destination. The particular
house occupied by Miss Coreli in no
way differs in outward appearance
from blocks Of gray stone houses in
London. i was ushered into a drawing
room furnished in pale yellow, back
OF which was tiny garden. Curios,
old embroideries and needlework of
antique design We're scattered here and
there. Rare etching and many photo
graphs of celebrities were about An
object that claimed my eye at once,
however, was harp whose strings
were twined with green's This stood
in the corner near the garden, and
allude to it as | would, could never
persuade Miss CoreAi TO talk Of it.
Prominent among the photographs were
those OF Walter Besant, Mrs. Richmond
Richie tAnne Thackerayi, and Wilson
Barrett. Also one of Miss De la Rance
lOuidai, who, although a resident oi
Florence, is usually in London at the
LaDgham during the season.
Several photographs Of Fl. r. H.,
the Prince OF Wales, are on a low teek.
wood table. Also, one Of Her Majesty,
the Queen, who has written on it her
autograph, for Miss CoreIii. The
Countess Of Warwick, Lady Brooke, il
also here. She has been called tbs
handsomest woman in England, and
is undoubtedly one Of the cleverest.
81 was interrupted in my observa-
tions by musical voice with cleal
and distinct enunciation of the English
woman, so delightful to the ear. Mis-;
COrelli is not at all attractive in an
perance. 1t is only after one knew,
her that one sees flashes Of beauty il
her pale face. Her hair is blonde ant
dull in coloring; she is short in stature
slight of figure, and being q woman
my dear, | could not help bnt sec L
my feminine eyes that she was gov net
in shocking bad taste, dowdy and care
less. Her eyes are blue and in them i
the only indication of the talent am
romance We ascribe TO this cleye
woman. Miss Corelli il most cordial ii
her manner, and though modest ii
speech, l am afraid must confess sh
impressed me as being very conceited
asked her about her birth, Of whicl
people know so little. She tells m
she is Of italian extraction, but wa
adopted by DIR. Charles Mackay ant
that England is her country. DR.
Mackay's son, Eric Mackay, author o
the Love Letters of Vi1linist,'; u
10 the time of his death, was he
guardian, and very congenial were thi
pair, his untimely death bringing t
Miss Corelli the shadows that cling {
her all her life, she says Miss Corell
hates critics, she abuses the pel
woman and all Americans. In facl
her ignorance Of America is surprising
As We sat in the window Sea
slipping our tea, Miss Corelli smoke 4
her own WORKS. She told me the on
book she had the greatest difficulty i
writing, and the one that was the mo.
absorbing was .Barabbas. Ever
morning before she took her pen in be
hand, when she was writing that stor,
she knelt down and prayed. One bt
comes very fond Of one's works an
characters, she went on to say. sYo
remember Dickens tells patheticall
of his wanderings about the streets /
Paris after the death of Little Paul
You know the writing Of novels is j
England more nearly profession tina
any other work in literature. MI
novelist, though he may OCCASIONAL
write articles for the daily press, fine
his life work in fiction writing. an
most OF them rule their daily life
that end. ! take substantial breal
fast at o'clock and every morning
O'Clock finds me at my work | wri
until / or 2, after which / put ii
papers away and with them all though
OF the subject, and the rest OF the q;
is devoted to my friends and my must
This mere writing out of a lor
novel, perhaps twice over, is in itself
mechanical labor that would sorely ii
the patience of most people, and tn
Is only the final and outward expressiC
OF months of toll and years Of stuc
and experience that go to the makiI
OF book. The Romance Of Nv
Worlds was my first book. / wrote
before was 70.
Miss Ccrelli is yet young WON;
OF whom her enemies saw che "a 4