"You are disappointed in me," she said quickly.
"I expected a--a--well, a bigger woman, and older."
"I see. You didn't expect a half portion?"
"Exactly," he smiled. "Well, we were extremely interested in your story."
"I am so glad."
"What else have you done?"
"Nothing."
"That your first story?"
"Yes."
"How did you happen to write it, Mrs. Jocelyn?"
"I am looking for a career," she began, but his surprised glance stopped her. "You see I ought to dance. That's what the Lord intended me to do. I can dance."
"I can imagine that."
"But dancing would take me away from home so much, and the 'Heavenly Twins' need me so."
"Twins? You haven't twins!"
"Yes. Oh, no, not real ones, but my father and Jarvis."
"Jarvis?"
"Jarvis is a poet and a dreamer."
"Is Jarvis a friend?"
"Oh, no, I am married to him. They are both so helpless. My father is a mathematician. I have to take care of them both, you see."
"You mean in a financial way?"
"My father makes a fair income, and of course Jarvis may sell his plays, but when I married him I expected to support him."
"He is delicate, I suppose?"
She laughed.
"He's six feet and over, wide and strong as a battleship."
"And he expects you to support him?"
"No. He protests, but you see I took a sort of advantage of him when I married him. He didn't want to marry me."
"You are a most extraordinary young woman," remarked Mr. Strong.
"Oh, no, I am usual enough. I help Jarvis with his plays, and what I say seems to have sense. Do you know?"
"I do."
"So just for fun I wrote the story, and just for fun I sent it to your contest."
"Well, just for fun we gave you the prize."
She laughed.
"We want a whole series of tales about that girl. She's new."
"How many is a series?"
"Oh, eight or ten, if you have material enough."
"Oh, yes, I live--I mean I get material all the time."
"What do you want for them?"
"Oh, I'd like a lot for them. New York is full of things I want."
He laughed again.
"We could give you $150 a story. That would be $1,500 for the ten. Then, eventually, we would make a book of them, and you would get 10 per cent. on that."
"A book? A book, with illustrations, and covers, and all?"
He nodded. "Are those terms satisfactory?"
"Oh, mercy, yes. It sounds like a fortune!"
"When could you begin, Mrs. Jocelyn?"
"Right away, to-day!"
"Well, that will hardly be necessary. If you send copy to us by the fifth, that will be soon enough."
"All right. Jarvis is selling a play to-day, so probably we will be rich shortly."
"To whom is Mr. Jocelyn selling his play?"
"Belasco."
"So! That's fine! You'll never have to support him, at that rate."
"He doesn't know about my getting the prize and coming to see you, and all. I want to keep it a secret for a time."
"I understand."
"It would be rather awful for me to be famous first."
"I don't know about that. It would be selfish of your husband to stand in your way."
"Oh, Jarvis is selfish. He's utterly, absorbedly selfish, but not just that way. He'd never stand in my way."
"I'd like to meet Jarvis."
"Well, when the secret is out I'll bring him here. He's unusual, Jarvis is. Some day he'll be great."
"He is in luck to be Mr. to your Mrs."
She flushed furiously.
"Yes, I think he is," she admitted, as she rose.
"How long are you to be in New York?"
"As long as your five hundred holds out."
"You must come in again. If I can be of any use to you, while you are here, give you letters to anybody, have you meet people, I'll be delighted to do so."
"You're a very nice man," said she. "You have removed the ban from the whole tribe of editors in twenty minutes' talk."
"That's a tribute worth living for. It has been a delightful twenty minutes. Come in again."
Out in the office, and in the impressive reception room, interested faces turned toward her. The girl who had acted sponsor for her nodded. She tasted the first fruits of success, and they were sweet. The only imperfection was the fact she could not tell Jarvis. She could not brag of her triumphs nor repeat the friendly chat with Mr. Strong. It would be such fun to see his surprise at the news--he had so lately patronized her. "You are not the stuff of which creative artists are made, of course."
Tra-la-la! She'd make him eat those words.
Then she began at once to do the next story of the series, and by the time she reached the club she had it all thought out. It was then that Jarvis's telephone message came to her, and she decided that he was even now reading his play aloud to Belasco; that he, too, had found a golden key.
She worked on the new story all the afternoon, and waited for Jarvis's triumphant return, in a seventh heaven of joyous anticipation.
IX
Jarvis marshalled his reluctant feet into "Forward, March!" down the hall, and trod softly in the hope that he could get past Bambi's door; but at his first step on the corridor it was flung open, and the small figure silhouetted against the light of the room behind.
"You read him the play?"
He led her gently into the room, closed the door, and faced her.
"Jarvis, he refused it?" she cried.
"I have spent seven hours sitting in an anteroom with a blond steno, waiting. Nobody has been near, all day, excepting fat old girls and Billy boys, looking for jobs."
"Belasco didn't come?"
"He did not. What's more, he sometimes does not come for days."
"Couldn't they send him word you were there?"
Even Jarvis smiled at this.
"My dear, they treated me with the same consideration afforded the janitor. It occurred to me, during those seven hours of enforced thought, that our ideas of the simplicity of selling a play were a trifle arrogant. It seems to have unforeseen complications."
Bambi sat down on the bed, her brow knitted.
"Seven hours sitting? That's awful!"
"The blond young woman suggested a letter of introduction or an appointment, but I don't know any one to give me a letter. I doubt if he will give me the appointment without it."
"I can get it for you!" she said.
"You can? Where? How?"
"I know a way. Never you mind."
"I was afraid you would be so disappointed I was tempted not to come back at all," he remarked.
"Disappointed? Not I! Why, we can wait seven years, if need be. In the end we will win."
"You are a very good sport, Miss Mite."
"I are," laughed she. "I am a very able woman, Jarvis. Some day you will be proud of me."
"You are a terrible egotist," he objected.
"If I didn't believe in myself, where would I be? You and father scarcely notice me."
"I'm beginning to notice you," Jarvis interrupted. "I was really surprised to find how concerned I was not to disappoint you."
"That was nice of you, Jarvis," she beamed at him.
"Don't do that," he said sharply.
"Do what?"
"Smile like a cat at a mouse," he said.
"I intended that for a grateful smile."
"It didn't turn out that. It was possessive. If I can't be friendly with you without your over-occupying my thoughts, I shall ignore you."
"You mustn't worry about liking me, Jarvis. It's inevitable. People always like me. I become a necessity, like salt and pepper. Just accept me cheerfully, for here I am."
He looked at her, frowning.
"Yes, there you are."
"That scowl is very becoming to you. You look like an angry viking."
"I am in no good mood to play."
"Oh, very well, Grandfather Grunt. I had such a nice day. Why don't you ask me about it?"
"I should be interested to hear what you did."
"Your manners are painful but impeccable," she laughed. "Well, I flittered and fluttered up and down the avenue, like a distracted butterfly. I spent a few hours in Tiffany's with such a pleasant man."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know. He was a clerk there. I went in to look at jewels."
"What for?"
"Just for the joy of it."
"And a clerk spent two hours with you?"
She nodded.
"But why?"
"Because I'm so charming, stupid. He asked me to come in next week to see some famous pearls. I also inspected a bookshop. I asked about the sale of published plays. I thought we might make your things into a book."
"If Broadway doesn't want them?"
"Better still if Broadway does."
"Do you always go about making acquaintances?" he inquired.
"Always. People like to talk to me. I look so inoffensive."
He smiled at her saucy, tip-tilted face.
"Any more adventures?"
"Oh, yes. A gay old man asked me if I was alone?"
"What?" he exploded.
"He did. He liked my looks enormously. I could see it."
"Did you call a policeman?"
"Not I. Do you think I am a 'bitty-lum'?"
"A what?" he asked.
"Once a pig molicepan, Saw a bitty-lum, Sitting on a surbcone, Chewing gubber rum. Hi, said the molicepan, Will you sim me gome? Tinny on your nintype, Said the bitty-lum."
"How old _are_ you?" inquired Jarvis.
"Well, I've got all my teeth."
"What did you do with the old masher?"
"I squelched him."
"Did he go away?"
She nodded.
"You must be more careful on the streets, Bambi. People misunderstand you."
"Well, I can always explain myself," she added, laughing.
"Then what did you do?"
"More or less directly, I came here, and lunched, in the conviction that you were closeted with Belasco. Did you have any lunch?"
"Yes. The blond one drove me out for half an hour."
"I should have gone with you."
"Why?"
"I would never sit anywhere seven hours."