Wilberforce, asking me to
talk Joan of Arc in his drawing-room to the Dukes and Earls and M.
P.'s--(which would fetch me out of my seclusion and into print, and I
couldn't have that,) and so of course I must run down to the Abbey and
explain--and lose an hour. Just then came Murray and said "Leave that
to me--I'll go and do the explaining and put the thing off 3 months; you
write a note and tell him I am coming."

(Which I did, later.) Wilberforce carried off my hat from a lunch party
last summer, and in to-day's note he said he wouldn't steal my new hat
this time. In my note I said I couldn't make the drawing-room talk,
now--Murray would explain; and added a P. S.: "You mustn't think it is
because I am afraid to trust my hat in your reach again, for I assure
you upon honor it isn't. I should bring my old one."

I had suggested to Murray a fortnight ago, that he get some big guns to
write introductory monographs for the book.

Miss X, Joan's Voices and Prophecies.

The Lord Chief Justice of England, the legal prodigies which she
performed before her judges.

Lord Roberts, her military genius.

Kipling, her patriotism.

And so on. When he came this morning he said he had captured Miss X;
that Lord Roberts and Kipling were going to take hold and see if they
could do monographs worthy of the book. He hadn't run the others to
cover yet, but was on their track. Very good news. It is a grand book,
and is entitled to the best efforts of the best people. As for me, I
took pains with my Introduction, and I admit that it is no slouch of a
performance.

Then I came down to Chatto's, and found your all too beautiful letter,
and was lifted higher than ever. Next came letters from America properly
glorifying my Christian Science article in the Cosmopolitan (and one
roundly abusing it,) and a letter from John Brisben Walker enclosing
$200 additional pay for the article (he had already paid enough, but I
didn't mention that--which wasn't right of me, for this is the second
time he has done such a thing, whereas Gilder has done it only once and
no one else ever.) I make no prices with Walker and Gilder--I can trust
them.

And last of all came a letter from M-. How I do wish that man was in
hell. Even-the briefest line from that idiot puts me in a rage.

But on the whole it has been a delightful day, and with M----in hell it
would have been perfect. But that will happen, and I can wait.

Ah, if I could look into the inside