III

He remained obdurate for a while, but in the end she wore his

opposition down. Mr. Crawford gladly welcomed her back to her old job,

and even offered her a larger salary than she had been receiving before

her marriage. "I've learned your value since you went away," he said.

"I'm a fool to tell you that, perhaps, but I can't help it. Half the

young women who go out to offices nowadays would be dear at ninepence a

week. The last girl we had here caused me to imperil my immortal soul

twice a day through her incompetence. I've sworn more in a week since

you left us, than I ever swore in my life before!..."

Eleanor insisted that John should not inform his mother of her return

to work. Intuitively she knew that Mrs. MacDermott's pride would be

outraged by this knowledge, and that she would make bitter complaint to

John of his failure to maintain his wife in a way worthy of his family;

and so she urged John to say nothing at all of the matter either to

Mrs. MacDermott or to Uncle William. He had made no comment on the

matter, but she knew that he had been relieved by her request.

Hinde had fulfilled his promise to boom _The Enchanted Lover_ in

the _Evening Herald_, and Mr. Jannissary reluctantly admitted that

the book was selling. "Slowly, of course, but still ... selling! I

think I shall get my money back," he said.

"Do you think I'll get any money out of it?" John asked.

"Ah, these things are on the knees of the gods, my dear fellow! It is

impossible to say!"

The second book moved in a leisurely manner to its close, and Mr.

Jannissary declared that he was delighted to hear that _The Enchanted

Lover_ would shortly have a successor. He thought that perhaps he

could promise to pay royalties from the first copy of the new novel!...

"How do writers manage to live, Mr. Jannissary?" John said to him at

this point, and Mr. Jannissary murmured that there was a divinity which

shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we may.

"Oh, is that it?" said John.

"Some men have been very hungry, MacDermott because they served their

Art faithfully. Think of the garrets, the lonely attics in which

beautiful things have been imagined!..."

"I've no desire to go hungry or to live in a lonely attic, Mr.

Jannissary. Let me tell you that!"

"No ... no, of course not. None of us have. I trust I am not a

voluptuary or self-indulgent in any way, but I too would dislike to be

excessively hungry. Still, I think it must be a great consolation to a

man to think that he had made a great work out of ... his pain, so to

speak!"

John reflected for a moment on this. Then he said, "How do you manage

to keep going, Mr. Jannissary, when you publish so many books that

don't bring you any return?"

Mr. Jannissary glanced very interrogatively at John. Then he waved his

hands, and murmured vaguely. "Sacrifices," he said. "We all have to

make sacrifices!..."

John left the publisher and went on to the office of the _Evening

Herald_ where he saw Hinde. "I've brought an article I thought you'd

like to print," he said when he had been admitted to Hinde's office.

Hinde glanced quickly through it. "Good," he said, "I'll put it in

to-morrow. I suppose," he continued, "you wouldn't like to do a job for

me?"

"What sort of a job?"

"There's to be a great ceremony at Westminster Abbey to-morrow ...

dedication of a chapel for the Order of the Bath. The King'll be there.

Like to go and write an account of it?"

"Yes, I would!"

"Good. I'll get Masters to send the ticket of admission on to you

to-night!"

He felt much happier when he left the Herald offices than he had felt

when he entered them. He had sold an article and had been commissioned

to do an interesting job. Eleanor would be pleased. He hurried home so

that he might be there to greet her when she returned from her work.

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