He is getting
terribly autocratic. Have you heard the delightful story of his telling Mr
Rowland to persevere, as his last work was one of considerable promise?«
    Mr Rowland was a man who had made a merited reputation when Fadge was still
on the lower rungs of journalism. Amy smiled and told another anecdote of the
great editor. Whilst speaking, she caught her husband's eye, and perhaps this
was the reason why her story, at the close, seemed rather amiably pointless -
not a common fault when she narrated.
    When the ladies had withdrawn, one of the younger men, in a conversation
about a certain magazine, remarked:
    »Thomas always maintains that it was killed by that solemn old stager,
Alfred Yule. By the way, he is dead himself, I hear.«
    Jasper bent forward.
    »Alfred Yule is dead?«
    »So Jedwood told me this morning. He died in the country somewhere, blind
and fallen on evil days, poor old fellow.«
    All the guests were ignorant of any tie of kindred between their host and
the man spoken of.
    »I believe,« said the novelist, »that he had a clever daughter who used to
do all the work he signed. That used to be a current bit of scandal in Fadge's
circle.«
    »Oh, there was much exaggeration in that,« remarked Jasper, blandly. »His
daughter assisted him, doubtless, but in quite a legitimate way. One used to see
her at the Museum.«
    The subject was dropped.
    An hour and a half later, when the last stranger had taken his leave, Jasper
examined two or three letters which had arrived since dinner-time and were lying
on the hall table. With one of them open in his hand, he suddenly sprang up the
stairs and leaped, rather than stepped, into the drawing-room. Amy was reading
an evening paper.
    »Look at this!« he cried, holding the letter to her.
    It was a communication from the publishers who owned The Current; they
stated that the editorship of that review would shortly be resigned by Mr Fadge,
and they inquired whether Milvain would feel disposed to assume the vacant
chair.
    Amy sprang up and threw her arms about her husband's neck, uttering a cry of
delight.
    »So soon! Oh, this is great! this is glorious!«
    »Do you think this would have been offered to me but for the spacious life
we have led of late? Never! Was I right in my calculations, Amy?«
    »Did I
