The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1906-02-10

and Mr.. Barton must be promptly paid. -
Now it was the 14th, and still no answer
had come
A thrilling whistle sounded somewhere
up the street. Edgar raised his sash and
leaned out at the window. Yes, the post
man was coming his way. Would he pass?
! No; he turned in aud rang the basement
bell. The young author closed the win
dow and hastened to the head of the stairs
The housemaid was coming up. How
slowly she ploddedl Wiuslow ran down
meet her, calling over the banister, Any
thing for me, Mary?'
''Yes, Mr. Winslow, you Al me is the
only ones that 5 got valentines, [ guess.
Look !? She had taken a gaudy comic
from the envelope addressed to herself and
was studying the verse beneath the hide
Gus picture.
Edgar, all impatience, took the two let
| ters addressed to hin and, with kindly
word to Mary, sprang joyously up the stairs
and shut himself in his room. With trem-
bling fingers he tore open the envelope
bearing the publisher return card The
letter was short and to the point The
manuscript, the publisher regretted to say,
was mot available 1t would be returned
by express that day
For a long time Edgar stood looking va
cantly out at the deserted street, with its
deep drifts Of snow, from which titful gusts
Of wind swep, up thin white clouds and
hurled them kissing here and there But
the desolation in his breast was bieaker
than that Of the scene outside, He had
done his best and failed. That vas the
deadeniug thought He had put his very
soul in thi- story-yes, and more, he had
put somewha, Of Alyiva's beautiful soul
into it, for ever since he had known her
she had been not only his inspiration, but
also the unconscious model of all that was
lovely IN his feminine creations. True. the
Limitations Of language had confined him
70 the mere,, suggestion Of those finer feel
ings to which be thrilled as be wrote, but
lie had done his best. aud under the most
favorable conditions possible II this story
vas not worthy Of pubhcauun he could not
hope ever 20 write one thar would be
And Alyiva' Was it farewell to her
also? From the depths Of his despair he
tined to look the situation honestly in the
faec. Mus, she not now lose her coma
dcaoc IN his power To win the world that
slmVle, joyous confidence which had en-
coaraEed him sometimes 20 feel such
baundless power within himself? Must
she no, now take him from the lofty pedes-
tai on which her love had placed him If
50, then his life was not worth living,
since Its one great purpose for months had
bcen to acquire, indeed, that nobleneSs Of
character which she in her sweet unques-
,iauine faith had ascribed TO him
In that hour Of overwhelming distress
he had forgotten the other letter Now,
however, he began tearing l, open listlessly,
Nothing. he thought that anybody might
have To say 20 him in typewriter com
munIcation could be Of the slightest inter
sst now Yet In the next moment he
stood with a $500 bill in one hand. plain
leaf Of paper hearing two typewriter lines
IN the other aud a multitude Of struggling
emotions in his breast. Through n gath
eriue mist Is his ey s, be read the two lines
A ircui wh0 is no, expert 81 rhyme
Brcs you 10 sccep, this valentine.
To his mind there was something pa
thesic in the wye,ehsi lack Of rhyme aud
rhythm, for It indicated to him only an
inuoceot attempt ot onc unpracticei 10 the
gays Of decrit to conceal her identity.
God bless herr he murmured feryently,
kissing The page ''She shall never know
how piIifuIy her little subterfuge has
failed
He spent the rest Of the forenoon writ
ing hong letter to Alviva, This was
easier than to confess himself a failure to
her face. He told her that some kind
anonymous friend had sent money enough
to enable hin to pay his debt 70 her father,
but that he must fow cast about for en-
ployment As for literature that sweet
dream was over.
Early next morning a messenger brought
hastily written note in which Alyiva told
him to be sure to call that evening aud
bring his manuscript Papa wants to
hear it, she said.
When Edgar paid his debt at the bank
that day Mr., Barton added his testimony
TO his daughter saying: Come TO din
ner. Then we can get at the reading ear
her.
In the library that evening the banker,
With a good cigar between his teeth, leaned
back in his great morocco chair and Pu, an
arm about Alyiya, who sat on hassock
close beside him.
As Edgar reading deeper and deeper
into his story, began to feel the pleasure
he had known in writing it his embarrass-
ment departed, and his voice became rich
with that melodious quality which had irst
attracted Mr. Barton at the club dinner.
Then the scenes depicted, the characters
brought out, the noble thoughts that strobe
through the tale, were all the more ma
jestic because clothed in the garb Of simple,
uuobtrusiye language.
Mr.. Bauon's cigar had gone out. He
leaned forward tensely. He was more
than interested; he was fascinated BY
Georser' he exclaimed as the reader
rounded a climax. Great! That 5 great.
Edgar laid the manuscript aside.
60 on, said the banker eagerly
Please 20 on, Mr. Winslow, - Mrs.
Barton added, with equal earnestness.
Alyiva's bright eyes danced with the
/ pleasures of pride.
The end Of it was that Edgar read until
after midnight, then left the manuscript
with Mr.. Barton, who said he could not 60
to sleep until he had learned how 1t all
came out,
The next afternoon the banker met the
head of the publishing house by telephone
appointment.
"Do you ever read manuscripts your
self?'' Mr. Barton asked.
..Not often. Only in very special
cases, :" the publisher answered.
"Wen, said the banker, ''thls Is
very special case. wish you would read
this one at once and send bill to me for
your trouble.
In two days the publisher called at the
bank. There was no bill, he said On
the contrary, the obligation was on his
side, and he should ike to make arrange
e L-;,rr;nr, o,,t the hook at once