n.'

'So far from that, Miss Dora, I was only waiting for an opportunity to
tell you how exceedingly delighted I have been with the last two weeks'
instalments. In all seriousness, I consider that story of yours the best
thing of the kind that ever came under my notice. You seem to me to
have discovered a new genre; such writing as this has surely never been
offered to girls, and all the readers of the paper must be immensely
grateful to you. I run eagerly to buy the paper each week; I assure you
I do. The stationer thinks I purchase it for a sister, I suppose. But
each section of the story seems to be better than the last. Mark the
prophecy which I now make: when this tale is published in a volume its
success will be great. You will be recognised, Miss Dora, as the new
writer for modern English girls.'

The subject of this panegyric coloured a little and laughed.
Unmistakably she was pleased.

'Look here, Whelpdale,' said Jasper, 'I can't have this; Dora's conceit,
please to remember, is, to begin with, only a little less than my own,
and you will make her unendurable. Her tale is well enough in its way,
but then its way is a very humble one.'

'I deny it!' cried the other, excitedly. 'How can it be called a humble
line of work to provide reading, which is at once intellectual and
moving and exquisitely pure, for the most important part of the
population--the educated and refined young people who are just passing
from girlhood to womanhood?'

'The most important fiddlestick!'

'You are grossly irreverent, my dear Milvain. I cannot appeal to your
sister, for she's too modest to rate her own sex at its true value, but
the vast majority of thoughtful men would support me. You yourself do,
though you affect this profane way of speaking. And we know,' he looked
at Dora, 'that he wouldn't talk like this if Miss Yule were present.'

Jasper changed the topic of conversation, and presently Whelpdale was
able to talk with more calmness. The young man, since his association
with Fleet & Co., had become fertile in suggestions of literary
enterprise, and at present he was occupied with a project of special
hopefulness.

'I want to find a capitalist,' he said, 'who will get possession of that
paper Chat, and transform it according to an idea I have in my head. The
thing is doing very indifferently, but I am convinced it might be made
splendid property, with a few changes in the way of conducting it.'

'The paper is rubbis