The Washington times., 1911-01-29

I had learned that David was living in
the neighborhood; knowing that Helen
had once been friends with him, he had
spoken of David to her; she had told
| of David's struggle and his purpose
and the invitation was the consequence
Helen advised David to accept, and
one evening he called. The gray old
man received him in such a spirit of
unobtrusive forgiveness, referred only
so vaguely and hastily to the theft,
praised him so sincerely for his strug-
gle, and spoke so hopefully of the flu
| ture that David could take none of
| it amiss. He had to like the man and
| be glad that such one was Morton s
successor.
Whenhe left he gazed long at the
| glowing memorial window, which was
now restored. What resentment con-
tinued in his heart was for the moment
swept out. He was glad that Morton's
| memory was clear-glad that his dis
honor kept the memory so.
All this time David worked hard upon
| his story-becoming closer friends with
| Rogers. frequently seeing Kate, who
was studying with all her energy, oc-
casionaly meeting DR.. Franklin and
now and then walking with Helen from
the mission to her car, or part Of the
way to her home.
| Most of the time his belief in the
story was strong, and he worked with
eagerness and with sense that what
l he wrote Hdu lllC anu SOul bul at
intervals depressions threw him into
its black pit. and all his confidence, his
strength of will, were required to drag
himself out. Several times Helen
Chambers rescued him. Once she took
him to visit her Uncle Henry, whom
she had told OF David's struggle. The
old mans genial courtesy and genuine
interest in the book were an inspiration
for days And once she forced him
TO come to her home and read to her
- hot hn hoI HIvrff
eager praise lifted him again into the
sunlight of enthusiasm.
So, working hard, the winter softened
into spring. the spring warmed into
summer. the summer sharpened into
early autumn-and the hook was done.
He Immediately sent it, as he had
promised, TO Helen, who was then at
one Of the family's country places.
Three davs afterward there came note
from her. It told how the story had
grlpped her, and how II had gripped her
Uncle Henry. who was visiting them
how big II was Just as a story-how
splendid II was in purpose; II told him
what A great promise the book was for
his future, and finally 1t told that she
had sent the manuscript TO her pub
Usher friend.
Eut the flames Of enthusiasm enkin-
died by this note sank and died away,
and he was possessed bv the soul-chill-
ing reaction the utter disbelief in what
one has done. that so often follows the
completion of a sustained imaginative
task. His people were wooden, their
talk wooden, their actions wooden, and
the wires that were their vital force
were visible to the dullest eye. Helen,
he told himself, had judged his work
with the leniencv of friend for
! friend: hers was not a critical estimate.
He knew that the publishers answer,
when it came after the lapse of a month
or two months, would be the formal
return Of his manuscript. Success meant
| too much to him to he possible-a rise
| in the worlds opinion. the partial re-
nayment of his debt higher place in
Helen's regard, the beginning Of his