"Frightened--of me?"

"Well, not you, exactly, but editorism." He laughed.

"I can match amazement with your terror, then. You are a surprise."

"You are disappointed in me," she said quickly.

"I expected a--a--well, a bigger woman, and older."

"I see. You didn't expect a half portion?"

"Exactly," he smiled. "Well, we were extremely interested in your story."

"I am so glad."

"What else have you done?"

"Nothing."

"That your first story?"

"Yes."

"How did you happen to write it, Mrs. Jocelyn?"

"I am looking for a career," she began, but his surprised glance stopped her. "You see I ought to dance. That's what the Lord intended me to do.

I can dance."

"I can imagine that."

"But dancing would take me away from home so much, and the 'Heavenly Twins' need me so."

"Twins? You haven't twins!"

"Yes. Oh, no, not real ones, but my father and Jarvis."

"Jarvis?"

"Jarvis is a poet and a dreamer."

"Is Jarvis a friend?"

"Oh, no, I am married to him. They are both so helpless. My father is a mathematician. I have to take care of them both, you see."

"You mean in a financial way?"

"My father makes a fair income, and of course Jarvis may sell his plays, but when I married him I expected to support him."

"He is delicate, I suppose?"

She laughed.

"He's six feet and over, wide and strong as a battleship."

"And he expects you to support him?"

"No. He protests, but you see I took a sort of advantage of him when I married him. He didn't want to marry me."

"You are a most extraordinary young woman," remarked Mr. Strong.

"Oh, no, I am usual enough. I help Jarvis with his plays, and what I say seems to have sense. Do you know?"

"I do."

"So just for fun I wrote the story, and just for fun I sent it to your contest."

"Well, just for fun we gave you the prize."

She laughed.

"We want a whole series of tales about that girl. She's new."

"How many is a series?"

"Oh, eight or ten, if you have material enough."

"Oh, yes, I live--I mean I get material all the time."

"What do you want for them?"

"Oh, I'd like a lot for them. New York is full of things I want."

He laughed again.

"We could give you $150 a story. That would be $1,500 for the ten. Then, eventually, we would make a book of them, and you would get 10 per cent. on that."

"A book? A book, with ill.u.s.trations, and covers, and all?"

He nodded. "Are those terms satisfactory?"

"Oh, mercy, yes. It sounds like a fortune!"

"When could you begin, Mrs. Jocelyn?"

"Right away, to-day!"

"Well, that will hardly be necessary. If you send copy to us by the fifth, that will be soon enough."