"Thank you for your letter....
"Second, I don't know whether the sales were large or small. Enormous I
should say, considering the quality of what was sold; but I don't know
what would be considered large as compared with other books. I remember
that the 'New Zealander,' a good while ago, said that for any book not
a novel five thousand was a success; and I think all mine, or nearly
all, have come up to that, and some must have gone beyond it.
"Third, I do not know who owns the copyright or the stereotype plates.
I never heard anything about either.
"Fourth, I am perfectly willing to push the matter to any agreeable
conclusion; but suppose I inquire around among the publishers, and find
that I have been underpaid, what do I gain? No money, for that is all
past and gone. Will it give me back Mr. Hunt? Does that strike you as
sentimental? It does me. Nevertheless, that is what it means.
"Next, it is very cool in you, if the mercury _is_ below zero,--when
you have always been telling that a woman has no logic, and that _I_
have no logic, and other similar endearments,--to turn around now and
quietly speak of my logical mind as if you had been preaching it up
all your life. _I_ knew it, but it is a good deal to have you even
indirectly confess it. As for business, if I chose to turn my attention
to it, I have no doubt I could master all its details, just as I could
in cooking. But if you have a cook or a publisher for the express
purpose of doing the business for you, what is the use of perplexing
yourself about it?
"I am purposing to go to Athens next Saturday. I will gather up my
papers and take them to you, if you will burden yourself with them, but
it is a thankless task.... But I really do not want to talk about it.
"I had yesterday a hearty sort of letter from Mr. Hunt. He says that an
unusual interest ever since the day of publication of 'The Rights of
Men' was evident on all hands; that elaborate newspaper notices have
followed the book in profuse showers; and though business is singularly
slow this season, he thinks it will have a good sale. He also says,
'When you come again, remember if there are any business matters to be
set right, we are to do it then,' and 'When the juvenile book is ready,
pray send it, for it takes some time to have illustrations made, and we
are even now preparing for autumn.'
"Now that does not read like a man who is conscious of anything
blameworthy. It would be impossible he should go on talking as
pleasantly, and cheerily, and carelessly as if nothing had happened, if
anything _had_ happened. Doesn't it look so to you? And why should it
be? Brummell and Hunt are famous for their generosity and liberality,
and what motive could they have in changing their course for me? It
seems to me like an ugly dream. I wish I never had thought of it at
all. They could not have been any worse off, and I might have been
better."