Angela's Business

ting-table. With the completion of the short fiction, he resumed his walks to Berringer's. And now on Washington Street, the principal scene

trary directions. But the third time he fairly overtook her, not a dozen steps from

ousin with a genuine warmth, springing spontaneously from his personal sense of

her smooth cheeks, "to see a familiar face, after blocks and blo

, he assured her that this stat

day," he pursued. "Do you take your

y, that she took them

ught I might meet father up here-it's his time for coming home t

oyed himself thoroughly. It was in the course of this walk that he evolved another phrase

d into Mitchellton, which had seemed like heaven at first, but had palled after seven years; how all the boys of Mitchellton grew up and went away, one by one, to make their marks in the world (though there was one exception, it seemed, a Mr. Dan Jenney, who was still in Mitchellton-Aha! thought Charles); how lonely she was after Tommy, her older brother, had thus gone away; how her father had had quit

e too heated by the Trevennas of this Unrestful world, her girlish unsophistications blew like a primrose zephyr. Moreover,

when he'd only been there three hours! He declared he hadn't seen a male

e surveyor w

o pony he had, the minute he said that, and trot

xpensive both, and not new. She was characterized, sartorially, only by that unobtrusive yet exquisite neatness whose

tance. Even the table of bridge with Cousin Mary had not developed so far. She walked a great deal, usually alone, but mentioned having met Mr. Manford the other day; the impression was left that she and Donald hadn't specially taken to each other. She kept her mother company; she often went into the shops, "just look

keeping yet, but I do the best I ca

Mother enjoys the rest. Imagine Miss Hodger, for instance,-to come no nearer home,-casually mentioning: "I don't want to do this, but I will. I want to go there, but I won

delightfully unconscious of th

mind my asking, but-when are you going to have som

," he said, modestly, "to write books, you know, and it's a slow business, with the

erful! But isn't it g

ating with a p

ting! I-I never kne

ed, exp

Garrott, if you really want to read that book,-'Marna', I mean,-I wish you'd let me lend it to you. We've finished with it-for good!-and if you have time to sto

eet toward Center, and she continued

me of? Quite a friend of yours!-

cessantly reading, the young man smiled: "I wonder if you can

ad her own life, and everything.... Mr. Garrott, do you think she's

an get it! It would be a remarkable thing for suc

just now; nevertheless, he now took up the cudgels for Modernity, though in the gentlest way: Why should not daughters have the same right to leave home for work that the sons of Mitchell

er part, she would look long at any lover

corner stood a Human Hair Goods Works. The Flower house was not intrinsically pretty. It was one of a block of six, all just alike and evidently built some time ago; rather dingy little brick houses, with

encountered in the hall, in the act of removing his overcoat. Angela

ated with a very large Adam's apple, which he jerked with a sort of nervous twitch as he talked. With his lusterless eye and spare, remote manner, he looke

t he had long desired thi

s Wing, is an old

octor, seeming to make a disti

first brought the Medical

owever," continued the father, jerking his long neck, "you do

hough surprised,

e enthusiastic about te

ain?-lacks the spice of brilliant variety? Y

cheerlessly at nothing. Charles wondered at him, with a certain sense of mild mystery. If

s, Mrs. Flower's cousin, Mary Wing, is the only tea

oesn't amount to a complete exhaustion of the energies, you would feel?

d Charles, cons

arm through her father's. She said that Mr. Garrott could keep "Marna" as long as he liked, but tha

y voice, was, "Don't forget, we're going

Girl had ever said that the authority felt inclined to criticize somewhat: the use of the word "that," now. Skilled and wary he had grown since he became a

Continuing his walk to Berringer's and the good ma

that aspect of the Question which, he was more and more convinced, scientific thinkers fallaciously slurred over: the business aspect of Home-Making, to wit. Though few of the sounder authorities openly advocated the suppression of Homes, was it not true that they-and he once among them-practically did so by denying any value

ntence for his conservative Notes i

t, was memorable in the Stu

ording to habit, but turned downtown again, instead. He had personal affairs to attend to to-day, an accumulation of small shopping and s

ger, and their only one. Possibly he was still thinking scientifically of Miss An

evening, M

, but the lodger only answered "Ev

you do t

d as

r, working su

r from t

an usual this eve

ss McGee angrily (or something li

the hall table, her official name was Mary Maude McGee, but to him she was always and simply Two-Book McGee, on account of her apparent habi

ok under his arm, "Ma

nuing the social chat, "find

ply that you would have supposed

ck some day, Miss McGee. I'm sure

r from Miss McGee, and the door of the

ck with an interesting thought: How about taking over

gements, pleasures, she had none, on the word of Mrs. Herman. All day she helped to photograph the General Public; all night, till sleep overcame her, she sat alone in her very small room, reading novel after novel which she did not like. A dull li

ts in the minds of readers as to whether Leading My Own Life was, in fact, necessarily the other name for happiness. Climbing the stairs now, he invented words for Two-Book's mouth: imagining her

oor of his Studio. And full upon the threshold,

over the Judge's typewriter; the author's office-coat hung on his chair-back. By the typewriter stood th

eye had fallen on it even as he opened the door. Some instinct in him seemed to div

t's

te head. To the secretary, the literary business was still a sealed book indeed; so far as he was

our novel-just come in! Must be! And gad, my

n bounded fo

lent stupidity of editors and publishers, amounting ofttimes to mere madhouse imbecility, as every young writer can testify, was yet as a sealed book to him. With the ultra-modern message

ased with the Old Novel that they had put it in type at once: this package was the proof. The package was the manuscript; but it had been sent back by an office-boy by mistake, and the letter rushed

rs' minds execute at these moments, in instinctive recoil from the stupefying fact o

ir [it

you were good enough to submit, but regret to report that the decision has been adv

y by express. Thanking you for giving u

very

BROTHERS

error seemed the crowning insult. Bandwom

abruptly become dynamic and vocal. Some of his remarks eluded the listener, as, for instance, the menacing cry: "I'll rent the Academy of Music some day to tell about this!" But on the whole Judge Blens

was no pleasant happening after all. When the st

e. Unfortunate! But as to that plan of mine-we m

arles said, in

fine novel, my dear fellow,-fine! But as to that little plan of mine-giving our undivided time an

kly at his relative's odd handsome f

to do with his great repulse as a writer. After all, "Bondwomen," good though he felt it to be, did not represent his best thought now; moreover, that the next publis

from the accepted ways of men, from all the currents of stimulating life. Making money, after all, was the "battle of life," and he-he had thought it often before now-had placed himself with the noncombatants. All day, downtown there, vigorous beings met and fought, crossed wills, locked minds, pitted strength against strength; while he, Charles, s

t? Merely that those who knew him best might vi

do something cruel," he thought moodily. "A

oring and writing, with W

sified the literary passion. Now he embarked upon his first attempt to plot out a definite scenario for his new novel, "Bondwomen's" subtle and superior successor. And it must have been that the novel thoughts generated at the Redmantle Club had rapidly crystallized through