ed to London to Messrs. Frogget & Leach. No reply. Wrote five
times, but could not get packet back again, though I enclosed postal
note for return in case of rejection. (Memo., never submit another MS.
to this firm.) Copied story again, and sent to Bailey & Thompson,
Paternoster Row. An extremely kind and flattering reply; their reader
evidently thinks highly of the story. Will be glad to publish it at my
own expense. Consulted Thomas. He thinks this would be unwise, and will
not allow me to withdraw my savings from the bank for the purpose until
I have tried other firms. Sent to Mr. Lance Rankin, the great author's
agent, together with the five-guinea fee which I found was necessary.
April, 1902. Returned by Mr. Rankin, who says he has submitted it to
fourteen different firms, but that there is a great depression in the
book market at present. Possibly my plot is weak--must try another
story."

And so on, and so forth. The pluck of the woman! The marvellous patience
and endurance! Did this extinguish her spirit? No; she refreshed herself
with reading tales of other writers worsted in the fight--Gissing's _New
Grub Street_ afforded her the maximum of melancholy satisfaction--and
then she fell to work on a new book. And what the character of the new
book was the latest popular success decided. Among the seven novels the
trunk secreted was a historical romance, a religious novel, a detective
tale, some "bush studies," and a book of political character.

Lynn disposed of a second saucerful of the banana compound that she
called her ice cream. It seemed to quicken her memory.

"Hugh Rosskin is his name," she said deliberately, "and if Howie gets
him it will be a great big shame, 'cause Larkin----"

But Miss Bibby was standing up, trembling from head to foot, and with a
spot of scarlet colour in her cheeks.

"Hugh Kinross,--oh children, children--was that really the name? Oh,
Pauline, my dear, my dear, try to think!"

"Yes," said Pauline, "Hugh Kinross--that was it."

"Hugh Kinross! Hugh Kinross! And at 'Tenby'!" Miss Bibby looked as
excited as Muffie had done, when, going to feed her guinea-pig the day
before, she found five little pinny gigs, as she tumultuously expressed
it, had been unexpectedly added unto her stock.

Then she tried to pull herself swiftly together and to look--as Miss
Bibby should look.

"If you have finished, children, you may go," she said. "Yes, Anna, you
may clear the table."

She hurrie