"Then, in the name of Heaven, what are we to do for the next number?" said Mr. Anderson. "Look through all available manuscripts at once, my dear fellow; there is not a moment to lose."
"I'll do better than that," replied Franks. "Our public expect a story by Miss Aylmer in the next number, and if possible they must have it. I have already wired to say that I will call upon her, and with your permission, as the time is nearly up, I will go to Prince's Mansions now."
"It may be best," said Mr. Anderson. He looked gloomy and anxious. "You can cut the new story a bit cannot you, Franks?"
"I will do my best, sir."
The young man went out of the room. He was just crossing his own apartment when the door was opened and his clerk came in.
"A lady to see you, sir: she says her business is pressing."
"A lady to see me! Say I am going out. I cannot see anyone at present. Who is she? Has she come by appointment?"
"She has not come by appointment, sir; her name is Miss Keys—Miss Bertha Keys."
"I never heard of her. Say that I am obliged to go out and cannot see her to-day; ask her to call another time. Leave me now, Dawson; I want to keep my appointment with Miss Aylmer."
Dawson left the room.