Nervous look-The bookseller's wife-The last stake-Terms-God forbid!-Will you come to tea?-A light heart.
ON arriving at the bookseller's shop,I cast a nervous look at the window,for the purpose of observing whether the paper had been removed or not.To my great delight the paper was in its place;with a beating heart I entered,there was nobody in the shop;as Istood at the counter,however,deliberating whether or not I should call out,the door of what seemed to be a back-parlour opened,and out came a well-dressed lady-like female,of about thirty,with a good-looking and intelligent countenance.'What is your business,young man?'said she to me,after I had made her a polite bow.'I wish to speak to the gentleman of the house,'said I.'My husband is not within at present,'she replied;'what is your business?'
'I have merely brought something to show him,'said I,'but I will call again.''If you are the young gentleman who has been here before,'said the lady,'with poems and ballads,as,indeed,I know you are,'she added,smiling,'for I have seen you through the glass door,I am afraid it will be useless;that is,'she added with another smile,'if you bring us nothing else.''I have not brought you poems and ballads now,'said I,'but something widely different;I saw your advertisement for a tale or a novel,and have written something which I think will suit;and here it is,'I added,showing the roll of paper which I held in my hand.'Well,'
said the bookseller's wife,'you may leave it,though I cannot promise you much chance of its being accepted.My husband has already had several offered to him;however,you may leave it;give it me.Are you afraid to intrust it to me?'she demanded somewhat hastily,observing that I hesitated.'Excuse me,'said I,'but it is all I have to depend upon in the world;I am chiefly apprehensive that it will not be read.''On that point I can reassure you,'said the good lady,smiling,and there was now something sweet in her smile.'I give you my word that it shall be read;come again to-morrow morning at eleven,when,if not approved,it shall be returned to you.'
I returned to my lodging,and forthwith betook myself to bed,notwithstanding the earliness of the hour.I felt tolerably tranquil;I had now cast my last stake,and was prepared to abide by the result.Whatever that result might be,I could have nothing to reproach myself with;I had strained all the energies which nature had given me in order to rescue myself from the difficulties which surrounded me.I presently sank into a sleep,which endured during the remainder of the day,and the whole of the succeeding night.I awoke about nine on the morrow,and spent my last threepence on a breakfast somewhat more luxurious than the immediately preceding ones,for one penny of the sum was expended on the purchase of milk.
At the appointed hour I repaired to the house of the bookseller;the bookseller was in his shop.'Ah,'said he,as soon as I entered,'I am glad to see you.'There was an unwonted heartiness in the bookseller's tones,an unwonted benignity in his face.
'So,'said he,after a pause,'you have taken my advice,written a book of adventure;nothing like taking the advice,young man,of your superiors in age.Well,I think your book will do,and so does my wife,for whose judgment I have a great regard;as well I may,as she is the daughter of a first-rate novelist,deceased.I think I shall venture on sending your book to the press.''But,'