CHAPTER XVIII.
THE LAST.
THE surprise and delight which the sight of "Under the Cedars" caused in Elm Cottage I cannot describe. However many thousands of books are written year by year, however many thousands are launched on the stream to win popular favour, there is always a special charm and interest in the first book written by one we love. It raises the person for the time to an important place in the family; and though the poor little book may soon be engulfed in this stream of which I speak, and lost to sight, or beaten down by the lash of reviewers, or, worse still, left to die the natural death of utter indifference, the author's position amongst her own immediate friends is not altered by it.
"Under the Cedars" was fresh and bright, full of imagination and that subtle power which touches the commonplace with interest. It had many faults—faults of youthful exuberance of fancy—faults of construction; but it deserved the praise of the local newspapers, which said it was perfectly simple and pure in its style, and the descriptions of child-life and nature alike true and unaffected. Then "Under the Cedars" had the advantage of being well revised and corrected by an able hand. It was well printed and well illustrated, and Hans and Carl danced about with excited delight as they recognized their own portraits in two knickerbockered boys of their own age.
Ada laughed at this. "All little boys look alike," she said. "You don't suppose the man who did the pictures knew anything about you or Salome."
But Ada was none the less delighted to take back a copy to Eva Monroe on the day when twelve presentation copies arrived from London. And Dr. Wilton was pleased to show one to his wife.
"That child has done something to be proud of though she is so unpretending."
All the cousins admired and applauded, and Digby was triumphant.