Los Angeles herald., 1910-09-25

the house three or four times and not happen upon
him. He there always but he did not attract at
tention You Joined Mrs. Clinton s circle or, if she
were in a confidential mood you sat with her on the
sofa She would point out her daughter, and Muriel,
attired in wonderful elaboration of old-fash-
ioned mode, would talk to you about "mamma s
books while Mrs. Clinton declared that, do what
she would, she could not prevent the darling from
reading them. Perhaps, when you had paid half a
dozen visits Mr.. Clinton would cross your path He
was very polite, active for your comfort, ready to
carry out his wife directions, determined to be
full Mrs. Clinton recognized his virtues. She called
him an cold DEAR with fond, pitying smile on
her lips and would tell you, with arch glance and
the slightest of shrugs, that he wrote too If you
asked what he wrote, she said that it was some
thing musty,' but that it kept him happy, and that
he never minded being interrupted, even having
nowhere to write, because Murie dancing lesson
cupied the dining room ''and really couldn It have
him in my study One must be alone to work. mustn t
one9' She could not be blamed for holding her work
above his; there nothing at all to show for his
whereas hers not only brought her measure of fame
as fame is counted but also doubled the moderate
private income which they had started housekeep
ng-and writing-thirteen fourteen years before.
Mr. Clinton himself would have been the last to demur
to her assumption; he accepted his nferiOrty with an
acquiescence that almost eagerness. He threw
himself into the task of helping his wife, not of
in the writing, but by relieving her of family
and social cares. He walked with Muriel and was
sent to parties when his wife too busy to
1 recoect that he told me, when had become
friendly that these offices made considerable inroads
on his time ''If'' he said apologetically, 81 had
not acquired the habit of sitting up late, I should
have difficulty in getting forward with my work. As
it happens, Me doesn t work at night-the brain
must be fresh for her work-and so 1 have the
study then; and [ not liable to- mean,
have not so many other calls then
liked Clinton, and do not by that that
disked Mrs. Clinton. Indeed, L admired her very
much, and her husband s position in the household
seemed just natural to it did to himself and
to everybody else. Young Gregory Dulcet, who is a
poet and a handsome impudent young dog, felt
by all to have put the matter in shape that
at once true in regard to host, and pretty in
gard to hostess when he referred, apparently in
casual way, to Mr. Clinton the Prince Consort -
Mrs Clinton laughed and bushed; Murel clapped her
hands and ran off to tell her father. She back
saying that he very pleased with the name, and
believe that very possibly he really Anyhow,
young Dulcet immensely pleased with it; he re-
peated it, and it ''caught on L heard Mrs. Clin
ton herself with half daring, half modest air. use it
than once. Thus Mrs Clinton led to be-
lieve herself great so that she asked if
thought there any prospect of the Quarterly do
ing her - [ said that did not why not Yet it
was not probable literary event.
Thus Mr. Clinton passed the days of an obscure
useful life, helping his wife, using the dining
when dancing lessons did not interfere, and enjoying
the luxury of the study in the small hours of the
morning. And Mrs Clinton grew more and more
pitiful to him. and Muriel and patron
izng; and the world more and forgetful. And
then, fine morning, I was going to my office,
the Prince Consort overlook me. He was walking
FAST and he carried large, untidy, brown paper
parcel
quckened my pace to keep up with his.
FSorry to hurry you, old fellow said he, but
must be back in hour. fellow coming to in
terview Mile, and promised to be back and show
him over the house. She doesn It want to lose more
of her time than is absolutely necessary she s in the