ealth of the Lady 'Ortensia.
Persons there were--Jarman would not attempt to disguise the fact--who
complained that the Lady 'Ortensia was too distant, "too stand-offish."
With such complaint he himself had no sympathy; but tastes differed. If
the Lady 'Ortensia were inclined to be exclusive, who should blame her?
Everybody knew their own business best. For use in a second floor front
he could not honestly recommend the Lady 'Ortensia; it would not be
giving her a fair chance, and it would not be giving the second floor a
fair chance. But for any gentleman fitting up marble halls, for any one
on the lookout for a really "toney article," Jarman would say: Inquire
for Miss Rosina Sellars, and see that you get her.

There followed my turn. There had been literary chaps in the past,
Jarman admitted so much. Against them he had nothing to say. They had no
doubt done their best. But the gentleman whose health Jarman wished the
company now to drink had this advantage over them: that they were
dead, and he wasn't. Some of this gentleman's work Jarman had read--in
manuscript; but that was a distinction purely temporary. He, Jarman,
claimed to be no judge of literature, but this he could and would say,
it took a good deal to make him miserable, yet this the literary efforts
of Mr. Kelver invariably accomplished.

Mrs. Peedles, speaking without rising, from personal observation in the
daytime--which she hoped would not be deemed a liberty; literature, even
in manuscript, being, so to speak, public property--found herself in a
position to confirm all that Mr. Jarman had remarked. Speaking as one
not entirely without authority on the subject of literature and the
drama, Mrs. Peedles could say that passages she had read had struck her
as distinctly not half bad. Some of the love-scenes, in particular, had
made her to feel quite a girl again. How he had acquired such knowledge
was not for her to say. Cries of "Naughty!" from Jarman, and "Oh, Mr.
Kelver, I shall be quite afraid of you," roguishly from Miss Sellars.

The O'Kelly, who, having abandoned his favourite champagne for less
sobering liquor, had since supper-time become rapidly more cheerful,
felt sure there was a future before me. That he had not seen any of my
work, so he assured me, in no way lessened his opinion of it. One thing
only would he impress upon me: that the best work was the result of
strict attention to virtue. His advice to me was to marry young and be
happy.