CHAPTER LXX.

“Good afternoon, ‘Floy,’” said Mr. Lescom to Ruth, as she entered the Standard office, the day after she had signed the contract with Mr. Walter. “I was just thinking of you, and wishing for an opportunity to have a little private chat. Your articles are not as long as they used to be; you must be more liberal.”

“I was not aware,” replied Ruth, “that my articles had grown any shorter. However, with me, an article is an article, some of my shorter pieces being the most valuable I have written. If you would like more matter, Mr. Lescom, I wonder you have not offered me more pay.”

“There it is,” said Mr. Lescom, smiling; “women are never satisfied. The more they get, the more grasping they become. I have always paid you more than you could get anywhere else.”

“Perhaps so,” replied Ruth. “I believe I have never troubled you with complaints; but I have looked at my children sometimes, and thought that I must try somehow to get more; and I have sometimes thought that if my articles, as you have told me, were constantly bringing you new subscribers, friendship, if not justice, would induce you to raise my salary.”

Friendship has nothing to do with business,” replied Mr. Lescom; “a bargain is a bargain. The law of supply and demand regulates prices in all cases. In literature, at present, the supply greatly exceeds the demand, consequently the prices are low. Of course, I have to regulate my arrangements according to my own interests, and not according to the interests of others. You, of course, must regulate your arrangements according to your interests; and if anybody else will give you more than I do, you are at liberty to take it. As I said before, business is one thing—friendship is another. Each is good in its way, but they are quite distinct.”

As Mr. Lescom finished this business-like and logical speech, he looked smilingly at Ruth, with an air which might be called one of tyrannical benevolence; as if he would say, “Well, now, I’d like to know what you can find to say to that?”

“I am glad,” replied Ruth, “that you think so, for I have already acted in accordance with your sentiments. I have had, and accepted, an offer of a better salary than you pay me. My object in calling this afternoon was to inform you of this; and to say, that I shall not be able to write any more for ‘The Standard.’”

Mr. Lescom looked astonished, and gazed at Ruth without speaking, probably because he did not know exactly what to say. He had argued Ruth’s case so well, while he supposed he was arguing his own, that nothing more could be said. Mr. Lescom, in reality, valued Ruth’s services more than those of all his other contributors combined, and the loss of them was a bitter thing to him. And then, what would his subscribers say? The reason of Ruth’s leaving might become known; it would not sound well to have it said that she quit writing for him because he did not, or could not, or would not pay her as much as others. Just then it occurred to him that engaging to write for another journal, did not necessarily preclude the possibility of her continuing to write for “The Standard.” Catching eagerly at the idea, he said:

“Well, ‘Floy,’ I am really glad that you have been so fortunate. Of course I wish you to make as much as you can, and should be glad, did my circumstances admit, to give you a salary equal to what you can command elsewhere; but as I cannot give you more than I have been paying, I am glad somebody else will. Still, I see no reason why you should stop writing for ‘The Standard.’ Your articles will just be as valuable to me, as though you had made no new engagement.”