The World of Chance by William Dean Howells

A purpose had instantly formed itself in Ray's mind which he instantly / set himself to carry out. It was none the less a burden because he tried / to think it heroic and knew it to be fantastic; and it was in a mood of / equally blended devotion and resentment that he disciplined himself to / fulfil it. It was shocking to criticise the dying man's prayer from any / such point of view, but he could not help doing so, and censuring it for / a want of taste, for a want of consideration. He did not account for the / hope of good to the world which Hughes must have had in urging him to / befriend his book; he could only regard it as a piece of literature, and / judge the author's motives by his own, which he was fully aware were / primarily selfish.

But he went direct to Mr. Brandreth and laid the matter before him.

"Now I'm going to suggest something," he hurried on, "which may strike / you as ridiculous, but I'm thoroughly in earnest about it. I've read Mr. / Hughes's book, first and last, all through, and it's good literature, I / can assure you of that. I don't know about the principles in it, but I / know it's very original and from a perfectly new stand-point, and I / believe it would make a great hit."

Mr. Brandreth listened, evidently shaken. "I couldn't do it, now. I'm / making a venture with your book."

"That's just what I'm coming to. Don't make your venture with my book; / make it with his! I solemnly believe that his would be the safest / venture of the two; I believe it would stand two chances to one of / mine."

"Well, I'll look at it for the fall."

"It will be too late, then, as far as Hughes is concerned. It's now or / never, with him! You want to come out with a book that will draw / attention to your house, as well as succeed. I believe that Hughes's / book will be an immense success. It has a taking name, and it's a novel / and taking conception. It'll make no end of talk."

"It's too late," said Mr. Brandreth. "I couldn't take such a book as / that without passing it round among all our readers, and you know what / that means. Besides, I've begun to make my plans for getting out your / book at once. There isn't any time to lose. I've sent out a lot of / literary notes, and you'll see them in every leading paper to-morrow / morning. I'll have Mr. Hughes's book faithfully examined, and if I can / see my way to it -- I tell you, I believe I shall make a success of the / _Modern Romeo_. I like the title better and better. I think you'll be / pleased with the way I've primed the press. I've tried to avoid all / vulgar claptrap, and yet I believe I've contrived to pique the public / curiosity."

He went on to tell Ray some of the things he had said in his paragraphs, / and Ray listened with that mingled shame and pleasure which the artist / must feel whenever the commercial side of his life presents itself.

"I kept Miss Hughes pretty late this afternoon, working the things into / shape, so as to get them to the papers at once. I just give her the main / points, and she has such a neat touch."

Ray left his publisher with a light heart, and a pious sense of the / divine favor. He had conceived of a difficult duty, and he had / discharged it with unflinching courage. He had kept his word to Hughes; / he had done all that he could for him, even to offering his own chance / of fame and fortune a sacrifice to him. Now he could do no more, and if / he could not help being glad that the sacrifice had not been accepted of / him, he was not to be blamed. He was very much to be praised, and he / rewarded himself with a full recognition of his virtue; he imagined some / words, few but rare, from Peace, expressing her sense of his / magnanimity, when she came to know of it. He hoped that a fact so / creditable to him, and so characteristic, would not escape the notice of / his biographer. He wished that Hughes could know what he had done, and / in his revery he contrived that his generous endeavor should be brought / to the old man's knowledge; he had Hughes say that such an action was / more to him than the publication of his book.

Throughout his transport of self-satisfaction there ran a nether torment / of question whether Peace Hughes could possibly suppose that he was / privy to that paragraphing about his book, and this finally worked to / the surface, and become his whole mood. After his joyful riot it was / this that kept him awake till morning, that poisoned all his pleasure in / his escape from self-sacrifice. He could only pacify himself and get / some sleep at last by promising to stop at the publisher's on his way / down to the _Every Evening_ office in the morning, and beseech her to / believe that he had nothing to do with priming the press, and that he / wished Mr. Brandreth had not told him of it. Nothing less than this was / due him in the character that he desired to appear in hereafter.

He reached the publisher's office before Mr. Brandreth came down, and / when he said he would like to see Miss Hughes, the clerk answered that / Miss Hughes had sent word that her father was not so well, and she would / not be down that day.

"He's pretty low, I believe," the clerk volunteered.

"I'm afraid so," said Ray.

He asked if the clerk would call a messenger to take a note from him to / his office, and when he had despatched it he went up to see Hughes.

"Did you get our message? " Peace asked him the first thing.

"No," said Ray. "What message?"

"That we sent to your office. He has been wanting to see you ever since / he woke this morning. I knew you would come!"

"O yes. I went to inquire of you about him at Chapley's, and when I / heard that he was worse, of course I came. Is he much worse?"