you may be personally acquainted
with some of those gentlemen?" When you confess that you have not that
honour, he seems more at his ease.

"I asked," he says, "because I have long heard of you as a Lady of
great taste and judgment in literary matters--which, after seeing you,
I can the more readily understand."

It is a fact that several of your nieces and female neighbours are in
the habit of declaring that they would rather take your opinion on a
novel than that of all the critics; still, you had not expected your
fame to have spread so wide.

"I had another motive," he confesses, "because, if you were intimate
with any of these authors, I should naturally 'esitate to say anything
which might have the effect of altering your opinion of them. As
it is, I can speak with perfect freedom--though in the strictest
confidence. You see before you, Madam, an unfortunate bean, whom
circumstances have 'itherto debarred from ever reaping the fruit of
his own brine! Well may you remark, 'Your Gracious Goodness'"--(_your
natural astonishment having escaped you in the shape of this
invocation_)--"for in your goodness and in your graciousness rests my
sole remaining 'ope. I was endowed from an early age with a fertile
and versatile imagination, and creative powers which, without vanity,
I may say, were of a rather superior class. The one thing I lacked was
inflooence, and in the world of letters, Madam, as I am sure you
do not need to be informed, without inflooence Genius is denied a
suitable opening. At several literary Clubs in the West End I made
the acquaintance of the authors whose letters you have just had the
opportunity of reading--men who have since attained to the topmost
pinnacle of Fame. At that time they were comparatively obscure; they
'eard my conversation, they realised that I 'ad ideers, of which they
knew the value better, perhaps, than I did myself. I used to see them
taking down notes on their shirt-cuffs, and that, but I took no notice
of it at the time. Probably you have read the celebrated work of
fiction by Mr. GASHLEIGH WALKER, entitled, _King Cole's Cellars_? I
thought so. I gave him the plot, scenery and characters complete, for
that story. I did, indeed."

"And do you mean to say he has taken all the credit himself!" you
exclaim, very properly shocked.

"If he has," he replies, meekly, "I am far from complaining--a
shilling or two was an object to me at that time. And it got me
more work of the so