In the young editor of _The Saturday Visitor_ he promptly found a second friend among men of letters. Mr. Wilmer, already prejudiced in his favor by the success of the "MS. Found in a Bottle," and its cordial reception by the public, and by Mr. Kennedy's warm words of recommendation, yielded at once to the witchery of the poetic eyes, the courtly manners and the charmed tongue, and not only befriended him by inviting and accepting his writings for publication, but gave him, as time went on, what proved to be a stimulant to good work as well as one of his greatest pleasures--the intimate companionship of a man of congenial tastes and near his own age. * * * * * The winter that followed was one of the happiest of The Dreamer's life--a lull in a tempest, a dream of peace within a dream of storm and stress. He was soon able to return the twenty dollars to Mr. Kennedy. The newspapers kept him busy and while the returns were--so far--small, he was hopeful. He felt that he had made a beginning, and that the future promised well. His work was praised and he became something of a lion--the doors of many a proud Baltimore home opening graciously to his touch. He cared little for general society, however. His greatest pleasure he found in his evenings with the Kennedys (for Mrs. Kennedy had taken him in as promptly as her husband) or in a canter far into the country on the saddle horse which Mr. Kennedy, noting his pallor and thinking that out-door exercise would be of benefit to him, kindly placed at his disposal, or in walks in the fields and lanes beyond the city with his new chum Wilmer. Many a fine afternoon saw these two cronies, often accompanied by the sprite, Virginia, with her airy movements and vivid beauty, rambling in the suburbs, and beyond, with heads close in intimate communion of thought and fancy. What he enjoyed most of all was the time spent at his desk, in the shelter of the new-found haven of rest, with the happy "Muddie" and "Sissy" nearby.