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Chapter 27

           Ihaveoften,privately,donesomeofthemagoodturnwithouttheirknowledge.ApublisherofminesentmeanMS.theotherdaybyoneofmydeadliestenemiesonthepress,andstatedthatmyopinionwoulddecideitsrejectionoracceptance—Ireaditthrough,andthoughitwasnotverybrilliantwork,itwasgoodenough,soIpraiseditaswarmlyasIcould,andurgeditspublication,withthestipulationthattheauthorshouldneverbetoldIhadhadthecastingvote.IthasjustcomeoutIsee—andI’msureIhopeitwillsucceed."Hereshepausedtogatherafewdeepdamaskroses,whichshehandedtoSibyl."Yes—criticsareverybadly,evencruellypaid,"—shewentonmusingly—"Itisnottobeexpectedthattheyshouldwriteeulogiesofthesuccessfulauthor,whiletheycontinueunsuccessful—suchworkcouldnotbeanythingbutgallandwormwoodtothem.Iknowthepoorlittlewifeofoneofthem—andsettledherdressmaker’sbillforherbecauseshewasafraidtoshowittoherhusband.Theveryweekafterwardsheslashedawayatmylastbookinthemostapprovedstyleinthepaperonwhichheisemployed,andgot,Isuppose,aboutaguineaforhistrouble.Ofcoursehedidn’tknowabouthislittlewifeandherdunningdressmaker;andheneverwillknow,becauseIhaveboundherovertosecrecy."

           "Butwhydoyoudosuchthings?"askedSibylastonished;"IwouldhavelethiswifegetintotheCountyCourtforherbill,ifIhadbeenyou!"

           "Wouldyou?"andMavissmiledgravely—"Well,Icouldnot.

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