ry firmament, has come
to a complete collapse. Something has snuffed her out; she has written
rubbish."

"What? you surely do not allude to Miss Aylmer?"

"I do. I asked her to do a paper for the _General Review_, thinking that
her name would be a great catch in the first number. She consented, I
must say with some unwillingness, and sent me _this_. Look it over and
tell me what you think."

Mr. Anderson read the first one or two sentences.

"She must have done it to play a trick on us," he said; "it is
absolutely impossible that this can be her writing."

"It cannot be printed," said Franks; "what is to be done?"

"You had better go and see her at once. Have you any explanation to
offer?"

"None; it must be a trick. See for yourself how her opening sentence
starts in this story: there is a dignity about each word; the style is
beautiful. Compare it with this." As Franks spoke he pointed to a
paragraph of the _Argonaut_ and a paragraph in poor Florence's essay. "I
will rush off at once and see if I can find her," he said; "she must
have sent this to pay me out. She did not want to write; I did not think
she would be so disobliging."

"Offer her bigger terms to send us a paper to-morrow. We must overlook
this very shabby trick she has played on us."

"Of course, the thing could not possibly be printed," said Franks. "I
will go and see her."

He snatched up his hat, hailed a hansom, and drove straight to Prince's
Mansions, and arrived there just as Florence was going out. She turned
pale when she saw him. One glance at his face made her fear the worst.
He had found her out. She leant up against the lintel of the door.

"What is it?" she said.

He glanced at her, and said, in a gruff voice: "Come up to my sister's
room. I must speak to you."

They went upstairs together. As soon as they entered the room, Florence
turned and faced Franks.

"You--of course you won't use it?"

"No; how can I use it? It is stuff; it is worse: it is nursery nonsense.
Why did you send it to me? I did not think that you would play me such a
trick."

"I told you I could only write fiction."

"Nonsense, nonsense! I might have expected something poor compared to
your fiction; but at least you did know the Queen's English: you did
know how to spell. You have behaved very badly, and it is only because
the governor and I feel certain that this is a trick that we put up
with it. Come, have we not offered you enough? I will pay you