I went up to the magazine rooms, and he was in his office; but he had left word that he would not see any one, and they would not even take in my name. * * * * * April 4th. I can do nothing but haunt that place till I find out what it means! It has been three weeks and a half since he gave it to them, and he said I would hear at once. What in the world does he think it means to me? Can't I presume the slightest gleam of interest, of care, on his part? * * * * * April 5th. To-day I could not stand it any longer. I went to the place again. I saw the manuscript clerk once more--the same answer. I went upstairs; he was there again, but busy. I wrote a note and left it. I explained that I did not in the least wish to trouble him, but that the thing meant a great deal to me, and that I had the utmost need of promptness; that it had been almost four weeks since he gave it to the firm, and that nobody there seemed to know anything about it. * * * * * April 7th. He did not answer my letter! I thought I should hear to-day. O God, this is the most tormenting thing! Think what it means! And what in Heaven's name has he done? Surely some one--he must have given it to some one! Only why in the world doesn't he understand my perplexity and explain? * * * * * April 9th. No letter yet. I went back to the publishers' again this morning. I have been wandering by the place every day since. They had not seen it yet. She said she'd have the firm inquire, but I said not to, as it might annoy him. “He surely has given it to some one, you know.”--She laughed at me. I went up to the magazine office again. He was not there, but I saw his associate. The associate did not know anything about it either. * * * * * April 10th. I waited one day more and no answer. I wrote to him again to-night, begging him to please reply. * * * * * --I have begun several novels, but I can't get interested in them. I am simply sick. I came out of that horrible restaurant with money enough to do me for ten weeks, and here are over five of them gone in this hideous way. Oh, it is monstrous! It has been nine weeks and a half since I gave him that poem in the beginning! I never spent nine such weeks of horror in my life. * * * * * April 12th. “In answer to your letter I beg to inform you that the manuscript of The Captive is now in the hands of the firm, and that you may expect a decision in about a week.” So! It is a relief at any rate to know that the thing is all right. I can wait a little better now. Of course I knew it must be there. A plague on that foolish clerk! * * * * * April 14th.