of human interest he was no good. It
was not that he failed to realize the possibilities of such stories; he
had as sure an eye for the picturesque and affecting as Dicky Chatworth
himself, the city editor's especial favourite; but he had an unconquerable
repugnance to "letting himself go." Moreover his stuff was suspected of
having a literary quality, something that is respected but not desired
in a newspaper office. Howbeit, there were some things Garth could do
to the entire satisfaction of the powers; he might be depended on for an
effective description of any big show, when the readers' tear-ducts were
not to be laid under contribution; he had an undeniable way with him
of impressing the great and the near-great; and had occasionally been
surprisingly successful in extracting information from the supposedly
uninterviewable.

Though his brilliancy might be discounted, Pevensey was one of the most
looked-up-to, and certainly the best-liked man on the staff. He was
entirely unassuming for one thing; and though he had the reputation of
leading rather a saintly life himself, he was as tolerant as Jove; and
the giddy youngsters who came and went on the staff of the _Leader_ with
such frequency liked to confide their escapades to him, sure of being
received with an interest which might pass very well for sympathy.
It was with the very young ones that he was most popular; he took on
himself no irritating airs of superiority; he was a good listener; and
he never flew off the handle. Such a man has the effect of a refreshing
sedative on the febrile nerves of an up-to-date newspaper office.

Outside the office Garth led an uneventful life. He lived with
his mother and a younger brother and sister, and ever since his
knickerbocker days he had been the best head the little family could
boast of. New York is full of young men like Garth who, deprived of
the kind of society their parents were accustomed to, do not assimilate
readily with that which is open to all; and so do without any.
Young, presentable and clever, Garth had yet never had a woman for
a friend. Those he met in the course of a reporter's rounds made him
over-fastidious. He had erected a sky-scraping ideal of fine breeding
in women, of delicacy, reserve and finish; and his life hitherto had not
afforded him a single opportunity of meeting a woman who could anywhere
near measure up to it. That was his little private grievance with Fate.

Garth came of a family o