For a moment she stood spellbound with happiness. The realization of her dreams was at hand. Publishers were calling for her work instead of sending it back when she sent it to them.
With a glad cry, and waving the treasured letter, she rushed out into the garden to Owen.
"It's happened!" she sang, gaily. "I am discovered."
"You are what, Miss Pauline?"
"Don't you understand? Can't you see?"
"Not exactly, while you slant that letter above your head like a reprieve for a doomed man."
"Well, read it." She leaned breathlessly over his shoulder as he read the familiar lines.
"Miss Pauline, it is splendid!" he exclaimed. "I was always sure you would be successful with your writing."
"Yes, you encouraged me to get new experiences, while Harry always opposed me," she said. "But, oh, I wish Harry was here to see this."
"Shall you go to Philadelphia?" inquired Owen