o interested in a story
in years."

When he had read _her_ story through he began to rewrite it, departing
as little as possible from the original. As soon as he had a chapter
finished he would give it to her, for comparison, and criticism, if she
chose to make any. She proved, however, a most charming critic, her
shafts falling mainly upon herself, for she declared that her novel
seemed unworthy of its elegant new dress. She conceived a shyness toward
this quiet youth, and blushed when the striking situations and bold
language of her tale came into the conversation. It was so different
from his own work!

"It is too bold. I am sure it is," she said, repeatedly. "I ought to
begin again. My plot has too much freedom, too little conventionality.
People will say a very strange girl must have written it."

And he would tell her that he did not think so; that the strength of her
ideas was very great, and that the public would find excuses enough for
anything that interested and entertained it. He even added that he
wished he possessed her knowledge, her insight into life, her
fearlessness to tread on any ground that her subject made desirable.

Between them they were doing very good work, without doubt. Mr. Weil
took some of the completed chapters to Lawrence Gouger, who returned
them with a smile that spoke volumes. Cutt & Slashem would take the
story when it was ready, if the subsequent pages kept up to the mark of
the first ones.

"Don't forget your own book," said Gouger, in a note he enclosed for
Roseleaf.

Mr. Weil was not backward in accepting the cordial invitation he had had
to join the Ferns at dinner whenever he could make it convenient.
Besides this he called frequently at the wool office, and ingratiated
himself into Mr. Fern's good graces in many ways. Within a fortnight he
knew all there was to be known about wool, in which he seemed to have
conceived a great interest. In his talks with Roseleaf he spoke
learnedly on this subject, referring to the foreign and domestic
staples, like one who had made the matter a life study.

"What a queer thing trade is!" he exclaimed, on one of these occasions.
"Here we find a man who ought to adorn an atelier, or a seat in
Congress, and yet is obliged to guide his entire existence by the price
of such a confoundedly dull thing as the hair on a sheep's back. He
votes a certain political ticket on account of the attitude of the party
on Wool; he dines off mutton and la