Well, and to Linda, also, was beauty a nuisance,--"a bitter and luxurious god," that implacably required to be honored with sacrifices of common joys and ties and ruddy interests, but was none the less divine. Sustained by this one faith, Linda Hallet goes out of the story, when youth is over, and when she too must pass,--and goes regarding not very seriously that which is human and ephemeral, even as embodied in her lovers and her children, nor in herself, but, rather, always turning grave blue eyes toward that which is--perhaps--divine. She passes, as at once the abandoned sanctuary, the priestess, the postulant, and the martyr, of that beauty to which fools had referred as "hers." She passes not as the wreckage of a toy, but as an outworn instrument which has helped to further--it may be--the labor of a god. For she passes, as all must pass, without any assurance of achievement; but with content. That, really, is the happy end.... § 66 --Which reminds me that for the most part I am rattling very old bones. Those seemingly unfruitful fourteen years are to-day at one with those other fourteen years which brought an elder Joseph into Egyptian publicity. Neglected merit has here been rewarded with that sort of loud and full-blown triumphing which in fairy-stories moves us to delighted applause, and in real life to instant, envious, sharp disparagement. For Mr. Hergesheimer has long ago "arrived": his books have found their proper and appreciative audience; whereas his short stories are purchased, and probably read, along with the encomiums of ready-made clothing and safety razors, by the I forget how many million buyers of the world's most popular magazine.... Now, here, when I first wrote about Mr. Hergesheimer, here I seemed to find stark provocations of uneasiness. I spoke with diffidence, and was not entirely swayed, I believe, by the natural inclination of every writer to backbite his fellow craftsman. In any event, dismissing _Gold and Iron_ (after some reflection) with unqualified applause, I took up _The Happy End_: and of the seven stories contained therein six seemed to me to display a cornerstone of eminently "popular" psychology, ranging from the as yet sacrosanct belief that all Germans are perfectly horrid people, to the axiom that the youngest, unrespected brother is invariably the one to exterminate the family enemies; and duly including the sentiment that noble hearts very often beat under ragged shirts. And I was made uneasy by the spectacle of these uplifting faiths--these literary baking powders more properly adapted to the Horrible Trites and the Gluepot Stews among reading-matter confectioners,--thus utilized by a Joseph Hergesheimer.