d to burble on as him--I think Dax is a him--for ten weeks; then,
if my stuff goes, catches on, gets over--I'm to have a year's contract.
And farewell to double-room-and-alcove for aye! Else, farewell _Whim_!
So it _must_ get over--I'm determined! I stick at nothing. I even test
my burble on poor Sister every week before sending it in. If she smiles
sadly, twice, I seal up the envelope and breathe again.

"That's my bird in the hand, Jimmy--a sort of crazily screaming jay--but
I mustn't let it escape.

"There's another bird, though. A real bluebird, still in the bush--and
oh, so shy! And he lures me into the second and beautifulest part of all
Gaul----

"It's no use, I'm dished! Sister says no one ever wrote or read such a
monstrous letter, and commands me to stop now and go to bed. There's a
look in her eye--she means it. Good-night and good luck--I'll tell you
about my other two parts of Gaul as soon as I can, unless you wire
me--collect--'Cut it out!' Or unless you run down--you never have--and
learn of them that way. Why not--_soon_?"

VII

Jimmy Kane took the hint, or obeyed the open request, in Susan's letter
and went down to New York for the week-end; and on the following Monday
Miss Goucher wrote her first considerable letter to me. It was a long
letter, for her, written--recopied, I fancy--in precise script, though
it would have been a mere note for Susan.

_My dear Mr. Hunt:_ I promised to let you know
from time to time the exact truth about our
experiment. It is already a success financially.
Susan is now earning from sixty to seventy dollars
a week, with every prospect of earning
substantially more in the near future. Her
satirical paragraphs and verses in "Whim" are
quoted and copied everywhere. They do not seem to
me quite the Susan I love, but then, I am not a
clever person; and it is undeniable that "Who is
Dax?" is being asked now on every hand. If this
interest continues, I am assured it can only mean
fame and fortune. I am very proud of Susan, as you
must be.

But, Mr. Hunt, there is another side to my
picture. In alluding to it I feel a sense of guilt
toward Susan; I know she would not wish me to do
so. Yet I feel that I must. If I may say so to
you, Susan has quickened in me many starved
a