d revolved on Henry's precious brain
as on a pivot. The drawing-room had not only been transformed into a
study; it had been rechristened 'the study.' And in speaking of the
apartment to each other or to Sarah, Mrs. Knight and Aunt Annie employed
a vocal inflection of peculiar impressiveness. Sarah entered the study
with awe, the ladies with pride. Henry sat in it nearly every night and
laboured hard, with no result whatever. If the ladies ventured to
question him about his progress, he replied with false gaiety that they
must ask him again in a month or so; and they smiled in sure
anticipation of the beautiful thing that was in store for them and the
public.

He had no one to consult in his dilemma. Every morning he received
several cuttings, chiefly of an amiable character, about himself from
the daily and weekly press; he was a figure in literary circles; he had
actually declined two invitations to be interviewed; and yet he knew no
more of literary circles than Sarah did. His position struck him as
curious, bizarre, and cruel. He sometimes felt that the history of the
last few months was a dream from which he would probably wake up by
falling heavily out of bed, so unreal did the events seem. One day, when
he was at his wits' end, he saw in a newspaper an advertisement of a
book entitled _How to become a Successful Novelist_, price half-a-crown.
Just above it was an advertisement of the thirty-eighth thousand of
_Love in Babylon_. He went into a large bookseller's shop in the Strand
and demanded _How to become a Successful Novelist_. The volume had to
be searched for, and while he was waiting Henry's eyes dwelt on a high
pile of _Love in Babylon_, conspicuously placed near the door. Two
further instalments of the Satin Library had been given to the world
since _Love in Babylon_, but Henry noted with satisfaction that no
excessive prominence was accorded to them in that emporium of
literature. He paid the half-crown and pocketed _How to become a
Successful Novelist_ with a blush, just as if the bookseller had been
his new tailor. He had determined, should the bookseller recognise
him--a not remote contingency--to explain that he was buying _How to
become a Successful Novelist_ on behalf of a young friend. However, the
suspicions of the bookseller happened not to be aroused, and hence there
was no occasion to lull them.

That same evening, in the privacy of his study, he eagerly read _How to
become a Successful Nove