nvelope and read:--

"No. 20, GROSVENOR ST.,

"Wednesday.

"My FRIEND,--SO often I have bidden you find work for the young people
in whom I have interested myself, that my present charge upon your
good-nature will doubtless seem strange to you. Yet I am as much in
earnest now as then, and for the favour of granting what I now ask I
shall be equally grateful. There is a young man named Jesson who has
sent you a story, and who hopes to secure more work from you. It is not
my wish that he should have it at present, and with regard to the work
which you have already accepted, please let its production be delayed as
long as possible, and payment for it made on the smallest possible
scale. You will wonder at this, I know. Never mind. Do as I ask and I
will explain later.

"That reminds me that I have seen nothing of you lately. This evening I
shall be at home from ten to eleven. If your engagements permit of your
coming to see me, I may perhaps be able to take you into my confidence.
If you should come, bring with you the manuscript of this boy's story
that I may judge for myself if the _Ibex_ will be the loser. Yours most
truly,

"EMILY DE REUSS."

Drexley glanced through the letter rapidly, read it again more
carefully, and then turned with a perplexed face to a little telephone
which stood upon his table. He summoned his manager, an untidy-looking
person with crumpled hair and inkstained fingers which he seemed
perpetually attempting to conceal.

"Mr. Warmington, is that Jesson story set up?" the editor inquired.

"Yes, sir. I understand that those were your instructions."

Drexley nodded.

"Well, I shall want it kept back for a bit," he said. "You can take
another story of about the same length from the accepted chest."

The manager stared.

"We've nothing else as good," he remarked. "You said yourself that
Jesson's story was the best bit of work we'd had in for a long time."

Drexley frowned and turned back to his letters.

"Never mind that," he said. "I've good reasons for what I'm telling you
to do. Jesson's story is not to appear until I give the word."

The manager withdrew without a word. Drexley went on with his
correspondence. In a few minutes there was another knock at his door.
He looked up annoyed. Some one else, no doubt, to protest against the
exclusion of Jesson's story. Rice was standing upon the threshold, and
behind him a younger man, tall, with clustering hair and brilliant eyes,
chee