et him at the door
of her attic with expectant eyes; she was certain of
success.

"Have they taken it?" she cried. "Tell me quick, quick!"

When he said no--the editor of the _London Magazine_ had
shown himself an idiot--he was very sorry, but they would
try again, he thought she was going to cry. But her face
changed as he went on, telling her frankly what he thought,
and showing her what he had done.

"I've' only improved it for the benefit of the Philistines,"
he said apathetically. "I hope you will forgive me."

"And now," she said at last, with a little hard air,
"what do you propose?"

"I propose that if you approve these trifling alterations,
we send the article to the _British Review_. And they
are certain to take it."

Elfrida held out her hand for the manuscript, and he gave
it to her. She looked at every page again. It was at
least half re-written in Cardiff's small, cramped hand.

"Thank-you," she said slowly. "Thank-you very much. I
have learned a great deal, I think, from what you have
been kind enough to tell me, and to write here. But this,
of course, so far as I am concerned in it, is a failure."

"Oh no!" he protested.

"An utter failure," she went on unnoticingly, "and it
has served its purpose. There!" she cried with sudden
passion, and in an instant the manuscript was flaming in
the grate.

"Please--please go away," she sobbed, leaning the mantel
in a sudden betrayal of tears; Cardiff, resisting the
temptation to take her in his arms and bid her be comforted,
went.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Mr. Rattray's proposal occurred as soon after the close
of the season as he was able to find time to devote the
amount of attention to it which he felt it required. He
put it off deliberately till then, fearing that it might
entail a degree of mental agitation on his part that
would have an undesirable reflex action upon the paper.
Mr. Rattray had never been really attracted toward
matrimony before, although he had taken, in a discussion
in the columns of the _Age_ upon the careworn query, "Is
Marriage a Failure?" a vigorous negative side under
various pen-names which argued not only inclination, but
experience. He felt, therefore, that he could not possibly
predicate anything of himself under the circumstances,
and that it would be distinctly the part of wisdom to
wait until there was less going on. Mr. Rattray had an
indefinite idea that in case of a rejection he might find
it necessary to