He was astonished! To think of this simple country girl proposing to criticise his literary work!
‘Well, Nan, I’ll select two or three of my best,’ he said; ‘but I fear you will prove far too indulgent a critic to be a just one.’
‘No, Alfred,’ the girl replied gravely; ‘you need not fear that. You may depend that any faults that I may perceive will be carefully pointed out to you. Don’t look for any kidglove treatment at my hands; and be prepared, in any case, to keep your temper.’
The next morning, after breakfast, she handed him his papers back. He could not possibly guess from her countenance what her impression had been. Her face had an earnest, but not an altogether unhopeful look about it; certainly, it did not show any signs at all of a wondering admiration for his genius.
‘Well, sir, I’ve read your stories, as I promised I would. I will say all my disagreeable things about them first. To begin: I think they lack the narrative power which leads a reader on, once he has commenced a story, and almost compels him to read it to the finish. Of course he is disappointed at the denouement; but he is equally ready to be cheated again by the next book he takes up, provided the author has the same power to lure him on. I think the first aim of a magazine writer should be to make his stories readable.’
‘And are not mine readable?’ he said, biting his lips and a frown overshadowing his brow.
‘Ah, I see you are wincing, Alfred! But didn’t I warn you I would be a severe critic? No; I did not say your stories were not readable; but they might be made much more so.’
And to his amazement, this young girl launched into a critical analysis of the plots, characters, and treatment of his three stories; and her remarks, strange to say, pretty closely agreed with those expressed by the ignorant London editors! Nan had verily profited by her old lover’s literary conversations; but Alfred knew nothing at all of that. She was then graciously pleased to say a few words of commendation.
‘Your style of composition is far too even for that sort of work. It lacks eccentricity’——
‘Pardon, Nan!’ he interrupted; ‘but are you serious? I have hitherto understood eccentricity was considered a blemish in any author’s style.’