e critic. "That makes all
the difference in the world. He has a correct idea of the structure of
the moon and what should be found in the unexplored caverns of the
ocean; while you, in total ignorance, have attempted to deal in a
science to which these are the merest bagatelles! You know as little of
the tides that control the heart of a girl as you do of the personal
history of the inhabitants of Jupiter! Your powers of description are
good; those of invention feeble. Either throw yourself into a love
affair, till you have learned it root and branch, or never again try to
depict one."

Mr. Archie Weil smiled and nodded, as if he entirely agreed with the
speaker.

"What a novel _I_ could make, my dear fellow!" he exclaimed, "if I only
had the talent. I have had experiences enough, but I could no more write
them out than I could fly."

"It is quite as well," was the response, "your women would all be
Messalinas and fiction has too many now."

"Not _all_ of them, Lawrence," was the quick and meaning reply.

"In that case," said Gouger, "I wish heartily you could write. The world
is famishing for a real love story, based on modern lines, brought up to
date. I tell you, there has been nothing satisfactory in that line since
Goethe's day."

Mr. Weil suggested Balzac and Sand.

"Why don't you include George William Reynolds?" inquired Gouger, with a
sneer. "Neither of them wrote until they were depraved by contract with
humanity. If we could get a young man of true literary talent to see
life and write of it as he went along, what might we not secure? But I
have no more time to spare, Mr. Roseleaf. I was sorry to be obliged to
reject your story. Some day, when you have seen just a little of the
world, begin again on the lines I have outlined, and come here with the
result."

Quite dispirited, now that the last plank had slipped from under him,
the novelist walked slowly down the stairs. He did not even ask for his
manuscript. After what he had heard, it did not seem worth carrying to
his lodgings. His plans were shipwrecked. Instead of the fame and
fortune he had hoped for, he felt the most bitter disappointment. All
his bright dreams had vanished.

A step behind him quicker than his own, made him aware that some one was
following him, and presently a voice called his name. It was Mr. Archie
Weil, who had put himself to unusual exertion, and required some seconds
to recover his breath before he could speak further