Jewel Weed

"I suppose you would want me to begin with Mr. Early," said Lena, hardly

knowing what reply to make.

"Never mind Mr. Early. Everybody knows just what he's got and how his

place looks. You might include him later, but I should start with people

who are more exclusive and yet whose names everybody knows. Now there's

Mr. Windsor and Mrs. Percival. By the way, Mr. Norris is awfully

intimate at the Percivals'. Perhaps he'd help you to an introduction. If

Mrs. Percival would let you write up her library, you may be sure

there'd be a lot of others who would follow her example. You might try

it, anyway. Go and see her. Tell her what a hard time you are having to

earn your own living. Your looks will carry you a long way."

"I think young Mr. Percival is in Mr. Norris' office now. Some one came

in while I was there and I think he called him Percival," said Lena

faintly.

"Say! is that so?" exclaimed Miss Huntress. "Now's your chance! Go in

and ask while he's there. He'll find it hard to refuse to your face."

"You go," interposed Lena. "If I go, it will look as though I knew. But

you can walk in all innocent."

Therefore the conversation on matters which were to change the destiny

of a city was interrupted by a smart knock on the assistant editor's

door, and Miss Huntress, eminently self-possessed, walked in on the two

young men.

"Beg pardon, Mr. Norris, I didn't know you had any one here," she began.

"But I won't keep you a moment. The truth is, I want a series of

articles on the private libraries of the city, and, knowing that you are

acquainted with Mrs. Percival, I thought you'd help the paper to an

opening there."

"Let me introduce Mr. Percival," said Norris. "He can give you more

information than I can."

"Well, this is lucky!" ejaculated Miss Huntress.

"Our library isn't a show affair," Dick said stiffly. "My mother, I am

sure, would be very unwilling to submit to that kind of a write-up. My

father was a book-lover, not a book-fancier. It's essentially a private

collection."

"I'm sorry you feel that way about it," Miss Huntress rejoined equably.

"Of course, nowadays, I can't admit that there's any such thing as

privacy. And it isn't only that I want the articles, Mr. Percival. I

want to help along a girl that needs the work, and an awfully nice girl

she is. We haven't any regular job for her, and all I can do is to throw

odd bits of work in her way. She has an old mother to support, and it

would be a real charity to her if you'd look at it in that light. Miss

Quincy is a perfect lady, and you may be sure she'd take no advantage of

you to write up anything sensational or impertinent."