Perth Amboy evening news., 1903-11-25

will soon, | hope. Shes coming TO
town, with her people, next month"
"Mayn't l know her name?"
"Of course. I'd quite forgotten you
didn't know. It's Lucy Mannering."
She noticed how fondly his voice lin
gered on the name.
Lucy" she said. 81 think 1t suits
her, and | remember now that you men
toned her in YOU letter. She has been
staying with the Harwoods, too. hasn't
she? | know now" she added, with a
light little laugh, why you wrote 10
me so seldom, Tom"
Il was a selfish beggar and I've never
asked you, Gwen, how you've been get
ting On. Splendidly, as usual, oil
~course?"
She smiled a little bitterly.
If you choose to call it that" she
said. 81 can always get plenty OF WORK.
And you deserve it,"
"Such as it is"
ooh, come now, Gwen, you, a success
full journalist, oughtn't to talk like this.
Why, thousands of women would give
anything for your position"
Il daresay."
but not many of them have &C.
YOU brains or YOU enterprise
Don't you think 500"
81 always said you were bound to sue
coed, Gwen, when l watched how you
stood up against all odds, how you
smiled at rebuffs that would have made
other weep, how you Deardeu
the editors in their dens and calmly ola
them that your stuff was what they
wanted, and how, when they declined
your manuscripts time after time you
only laughed and declared that your
hour would come some day-do o re-
! member, Gwen?"
Eyes, | remember" she said, YEARLY.
"And your hour has comet
Eyes. | got what | wanted, Tom
81 knew you would. You are so cool
and plucky and unmoved, Gwen, Some
times | feel almost afraid Of YOU
"Afraid-of me?"
She stared at him, with wide eyes full
of pain,
almost afraid" he said. You are SO
different from other women. Some
times, Gwen, you are almost unnatural,
you seem SO proud and strong and in
dependent"
"If he only knew" she whispered to
herself, and in that moment she real
lied the vast gulf that stretched between
her and this man who understood ner
so little.
'Forgive me if | send you away now.
| she said, presently. Il have a story TO
finish for the Epoch tonight, and It's
weighing on my mind
weighing on your mind!' he eX-
| claimed, 81 don't believe you allow
anything to weigh on your mind, Gwen
Don't your" she asked, l~istlessly.
How little h. understood!
The editor of the Epoch had rejected
her last contribution, with a curt note
to the effect that the story was scarcely
up to her usual mark.
No one but Gwen herself knew how
she WINGED beneath that criticism, as
beneath every rebuff of the same sort.
To her editors and colleagues, Gwen
seemed a case-hardened journalist who
pocketed snubs cheerfully, as a matter
of course, and showed a commendable
appreciation of her own ability.
They little guessed what agOnies of
doubt and self-distrust'the girl endured
at every business interview, at every
most that brought back a rejected manu-
script; what bitter tears she shed in
- l1,,, OF +ip,CC chic JVpllH prV
out in her loneliness and feel afraid
desperately, hopelessly afraid of the
struggle that lay before her, the sOrdid,
miserable struggle for mere bread-and-
cheese that had been her lot almost e
since she could remember.
The success that had fallen TO her
share had cheered her, but it did not
suffice to set at rest the terrible doubt
of herself and her powers that torment
ed her so persistently.
Sometimes, at the end of a more than
usually hard spell of work, her over
taxed brain would suddenly refuse to
respond further to her call upon it, and
then an awful fear would seize her
the fear that she had come to the end
of her resources, that her stock-in-trade
of ideas had been exhausted, that she
had, in fact, written herself out"
At such times she would sit at her
desk for hours, wild-eyed and white
faced, unable to pen a single line, won
dering desperately what the end of it
all would be.
And then, all at once, in the midst Of
her misery, a thought would come to
her, bringing a light to her tired eyes,
and a flush to her checks. that seemed to
transfgure the anxious face and make
it strangely beautiful.
She was not altogether friendless. He
had told her, again and again, in his
boyish, impulsive fashion, that he ad-
mired her more than any other woman
in the world; and, though she smiled at
his extravaganza, it was infinitely
soothing to her.
He had never pretended to be in love