The World of Chance by William Dean Howells

"Well, sir," said Mr. Brandreth when he found Ray waiting for him in his / little room the next morning, "I haven't slept a wink all night."

Ray had not slept a wink himself, and he had not been able to keep away / from Chapley's in his fear and his hope concerning his book. He hoped / Mr. Brandreth might have looked at it; he feared he had not. His heart / began to go down, but he paused in his despair at the smiles that Mr. / Brandreth broke into.

"It was that book of yours. I thought I would just dip into it after / dinner, and try a chapter or two on Mrs. Brandreth; but I read on till / eleven o'clock, and then she went to bed, and I kept at it till I / finished it, about three this morning. Then the baby took up the strain / for about half an hour and finished _me_."

Ray did not know what to say. He gasped out, "I'm proud to have been / associated with young Mr. Brandreth in destroying his father's rest."

The publisher did not heed this poor attempt at nonchalance. "I left the / manuscript for Mrs. Brandreth -- she called me back to make sure, before I / got out of doors -- and if she likes it as well to the end -- But I know she / will! She likes you, Ray."

"Does she? " Ray faintly questioned back.

"Yes; she thinks you're all kinds of a nice fellow, and that you've been / rather sacrificed in some ways. She thinks you behaved splendidly in / that Denton business."

Ray remained mutely astonished at the flattering opinions of Mrs. / Brandreth; he had suspected them so little. Her husband went on, / smiling:

"She wasn't long making out the original of your hero. " Ray blushed / consciously, but made no attempt to disown the self-portraiture. "Of / course," said Mr. Brandreth, "we're all in the dark about the heroine. / But Mrs. Brandreth doesn't care so much for her."

Now that he was launched upon the characters of the story, Mr. Brandreth / discussed them all, and went over the incidents with the author, whose / brain reeled with the ecstacy of beholding them objectively in the / flattering light of another's appreciation.

"Well," said Mr. Brandreth, at last, when Ray found strength to rise / from this debauch of praise, "you'll hear from me, now, very soon. I've / made up my mind about the story, and unless Mrs. Brandreth should hate / it very much before she gets through with it -- Curious about women, isn't / it, how they always take the personal view? I believe the main reason / why my wife dislikes your heroine is because she got her mixed up with / the girl that took the part of Juliet away from her in our out-door / theatricals. I tell her that you and I are not only the two Percys, / we're the two Romeos, too. She thinks your heroine is rather weak; of / course you meant her to be so."

Ray had not, but he said that he had, and he made a noisy pretence of / thinking the two Romeos a prodigious joke. His complaisance brought its / punishment.

"Oh! " said Mr. Brandreth, "I must tell you a singular thing that / happened. Just as I got to that place where he shoots himself, you know, / and she starts up out of her hypnotic trance, our baby gave a frightful / scream, and Mrs. Brandreth woke and thought the house was on fire. I / suppose the little fellow had a bad dream; it's strange what dreams / babies _do_ have! But wasn't it odd, happening when I was wrought up so? / Looks like telepathy, doesn't it? Of course my mind's always on the / child. By-the-way, if this thing goes, you must try a telepathic story. / It hasn't been done yet."

"Magnificent! " said Ray. "I'll do it!"

They got away from each other, and Ray went down to his work at the / _Every Evening_ office. He enslaved himself to it by an effort twice as / costly as that of writing when he was in the deepest and darkest of his / despair; his hope danced before him, and there was a tumult in his / pulses which he could quiet a little only by convincing himself that as / yet he had no promise from Mr. Brandreth, and that if the baby had given / Mrs. Brandreth a bad day, it was quite within the range of possibility / that the publisher might, after all, have perfectly good reasons for / rejecting his book. He insisted with himself upon this view of the / case; it was the only one that he could steady his nerves with; and / besides, he somehow felt that if he could feign it strenuously enough, / the fates would be propitiated, and the reverse would happen.

It is uncertain whether it was his pretence that produced the result / intended, but in the evening Mr. Brandreth came down to Ray's hotel to / say that he had made up his mind to take the book.

"We talked it over at dinner, and my wife made me come right down and / tell you. She said you had been kept in suspense long enough, and she / wasn't going to let you go overnight. It's the first book _we've_ ever / taken, and I guess she feels a little romantic about the new departure. / By-the-way, we found out what ailed the baby. It was a pin that had got / loose, and stuck up through the sheet in his crib. You can't trust those / nurses a moment. But I believe that telepathic idea is a good one."

"Yes, yes; it is," said Ray. Now that the certainty of acceptance had / come, he was sobered by it, and he could not rejoice openly, though he / was afraid he was disappointing Mr. Brandreth. He could only say, "It's / awfully kind of Mrs. Brandreth to think of me."

"That's her way," said Mr. Brandreth, and he added briskly, "Well, now, / let's come down to business. How do you want to publish? Want to make / your own plates?"

"No," Ray faltered; "I can't afford to do that; I had one such offer" --