“Of course; but you are not a scribbler, and you won’t write rubbish,” I retorted: “But tell me, what is it to be about? will it be a story?” “No,” she answered. “The public does not need any more stories, at least mediocre ones, and mine could never be anything else. I trust that I have too much self-respect left to be guilty of inflicting another purposeless book on the world’s already overstocked supply. Besides, you know, Howells says all the stories have been told.” “Then what is it?” I asked. “Is it sermons? or sonnets? or”— “No,” interposed Mildred; “it is _Suggestions_,—suggestions to the idle and thoughtless, the rich and the unconsciously selfish. I am confident that there are some tens of thousands of people in this country who are tolerably well-meaning, who have a superfluity of leisure and wealth and strength which they are letting run to waste because no one has suggested to them what they might do. “Few people like to take the initiative. They wait for some one to plan and organize and tell them definitely what to do. “My first intention is to suggest to them that they are peculiarly privileged mortals, and that life is worth living only on the condition that one does something with it. That they are sinners above all other sinners since civilization began, if they let themselves be ignorant of what they should know and indifferent to the evil which they should help; the more their culture and ability the greater their debt. “I mean to suggest some very practical things which might be done, which need to be done. There will be suggestions for those who have time and no money, suggestions for those who have much money and no time, suggestions for people who think they have neither time nor money, and suggestions for developing influence and talent where there seems very little to start with. “Not that these will all be particularly new or original. That is not necessary. We heedless mortals need to have a wise thing said many times and in many ways before it makes much impression. “I shall not attempt to suggest many new principles of work, but simply to make many new applications of the old ones. “Oh, Ruby,” exclaimed Mildred, her mobile features glowing with the enthusiasm of the thought, “what a metamorphosis of this planet we little mortals might make if we all did, and did wisely, what it is quite in our power to do!” “Such a book is a capital idea,” I exclaimed, much impressed with her plan, “and it will have double weight because you have already provided the most effective object lessons as illustrations of what might be done.” “That is not exactly what I mean,” replied Mildred, shaking her head. “No; few persons have it in their power to work in the way that I have done on a large scale. I am not sure after all that this is what is most needed.