son, you know, and that is always exciting to a girl.
Perhaps it is only the spring weather."

It was some moments before either of them spoke again, and then Miss
McDonald looked up--"Oh, Mr. Burnett, I have wanted to see you and have
a talk with you about your novel. I could say so little in my note.
We read it first together and then I read it alone, rather to sit in
judgment on it, you know. I liked it better the second time, but I could
see the faults of construction, and I could see, too, why it will be
more popular with a few people than with the general public. You don't
mind my saying--"

"Go on, the words of a friend."

"Yes, I know, are sometimes hardest to bear. Well, it is lovely, ideal,
but it seems to me you are still a little too afraid of human nature.
You are afraid to say things that are common. And the deep things of
life are pretty much all common. No, don't interrupt me. I love the
story just as it is. I am glad you wrote it as you did. It was natural,
in your state of experience, that you should do it. But in your next,
having got rid of what was on top of your mind, so to speak, you will
take a firmer, more confident hold of life. You are not offended?"

"No, indeed," cried Philip. "I am very grateful. No doubt you are right.
It seems to me, now that I am detached from it, as if it were only a
sort of prelude to something else."

"Well, you must not let my single opinion influence you too much, for I
must in honesty tell you another thing. Evelyn will not have a word of
criticism of it. She says it is like a piece of music, and the impudent
thing declares that she does not expect a Scotchwoman to understand
anything but ballad music."

Philip laughed at this, such a laugh as he had not indulged in for many
days. "I hope you don't quarrel about such a little thing."

"Not seriously. She says I may pick away at the story--and I like to see
her bristle up--but that she looks at the spirit."

"God bless her," said Philip under his breath.

Miss McDonald rose, and they walked out into the Avenue again. How
delightful was the genial air, the light, the blue sky of spring! How
the brilliant Avenue, now filling up with afternoon equipages, sparkled
in the sunshine!

When they parted, Miss McDonald gave him her hand and held his a moment,
looking into his eyes. "Mr. Burnett, authors need some encouragement.
When I left Evelyn she was going to her room with your book in her
hand."

XIX