"Right away, to-day!" "Well, that will hardly be necessary. If you send copy to us by the fifth, that will be soon enough." "All right. Jarvis is selling a play to-day, so probably we will be rich shortly." "To whom is Mr. Jocelyn selling his play?" "Belasco." "So! That's fine! You'll never have to support him, at that rate." "He doesn't know about my getting the prize and coming to see you, and all. I want to keep it a secret for a time." "I understand." "It would be rather awful for me to be famous first." "I don't know about that. It would be selfish of your husband to stand in your way." "Oh, Jarvis is selfish. He's utterly, absorbedly selfish, but not just that way. He'd never stand in my way." "I'd like to meet Jarvis." "Well, when the secret is out I'll bring him here. He's unusual, Jarvis is. Some day he'll be great." "He is in luck to be Mr. to your Mrs." She flushed furiously. "Yes, I think he is," she admitted, as she rose. "How long are you to be in New York?" "As long as your five hundred holds out." "You must come in again. If I can be of any use to you, while you are here, give you letters to anybody, have you meet people, I'll be delighted to do so." "You're a very nice man," said she. "You have removed the ban from the whole tribe of editors in twenty minutes' talk." "That's a tribute worth living for. It has been a delightful twenty minutes. Come in again." Out in the office, and in the impressive reception room, interested faces turned toward her. The girl who had acted sponsor for her nodded. She tasted the first fruits of success, and they were sweet. The only imperfection was the fact she could not tell Jarvis. She could not brag of her triumphs nor repeat the friendly chat with Mr. Strong. It would be such fun to see his surprise at the news--he had so lately patronized her. "You are not the stuff of which creative artists are made, of course." Tra-la-la! She'd make him eat those words. Then she began at once to do the next story of the series, and by the time she reached the club she had it all thought out. It was then that Jarvis's telephone message came to her, and she decided that he was even now reading his play aloud to Belasco; that he, too, had found a golden key. She worked on the new story all the afternoon, and waited for Jarvis's triumphant return, in a seventh heaven of joyous anticipation. IX Jarvis marshalled his reluctant feet into "Forward, March!" down the hall, and trod softly in the hope that he could get past Bambi's door; but at his first step on the corridor it was flung open, and the small figure silhouetted against the light of the room behind. "You read him the play?" He led her gently into the room, closed the door, and faced her. "Jarvis, he refused it?" she cried. "I have spent seven hours sitting in an anteroom with a blond steno, waiting. Nobody has been near, all day, excepting fat old girls and Billy boys, looking for jobs." "Belasco didn't come?"