Mr. Chapley looked at the manuscript of the unknown author before him, as if he divined it through its wrappings of stiff manilla paper. Ray had no reason to think that he meant to prevent a possible offer of manuscript, but he could not help thinking so, and it cut him short in the inquiries he was going to make as to the extent of the demoralization the book trade had suffered through the competition of the large variety stores. He had seen a whole letter for the Echo in the subject, but now he could not go on. He sat blankly staring at Mr. Chapley’s friendly, pensive face, and trying to decide whether he had better get himself away without seeing Mr. Brandreth, or whether he had better stay and meet him, and after a cold, formal exchange of civilities, shake the dust of Chapley & Co.’s publishing house from his feet forever. The distant street door opened again, and a small light figure, much like his own, entered briskly. Mr. Kane turned about at the new-comer’s step as he had turned at Mr. Chapley’s, and sent his cheerful hail across the book counters as before. “Ah, good-morning, good-morning!”
“Good-morning, Mr. Kane; magnificent day,” said the gentleman, who advanced rapidly towards Ray and Mr. Chapley, with a lustrous silk hat on his head, and a brilliant smile on his face. His overcoat hung on his arm, and he looked fresh and warm as if from a long walk. “Ah, good-morning,” he said to Mr. Chapley; “how are you this morning, sir?” He bent his head inquiringly towards Ray, who stood a moment while Mr. Chapley got himself together and said:
“This is Mr.—ah—Ray, who brings a letter from our old friends”—he had to glance at the letter-head—“Schmucker & Wills, of—Midland.”
“Ah! Midland! yes,” said Mr. Brandreth, for Ray felt it was he, although his name had not been mentioned yet. “Very glad to see you, Mr. Ray. When did you leave Midland? Won’t you sit down? And you, Mr. Chapley?”
“No, no,” said Mr. Chapley, nervously. “I was going to my own room. How is poor Bella this morning?”
“Wonderfully well, wonderfully! I waited for the doctor’s visit before I left home, so as to report reliably, and he says he never saw a better convalescence. He promises to let her go out in a fortnight or so, if the weather’s good.”
“You must be careful! Don’t go too fast!” said Mr. Chapley. “And the—child?”
“Perfectly splendid! He slept like a top last night, and we could hardly get him awake for breakfast.”
“Poor thing!” said Mr. Chapley. He offered Ray his hand, and said that he hoped they should see him often; he must drop in whenever he was passing. “Mr. Ray,” he explained, “has come on to take up his residence in New York. He remains connected with one of the papers in—Midland; and I have been referring him to you for literary gossip, and that kind of thing.”
“All right, sir, all right!” said Mr. Brandreth. He laughed out after Mr. Chapley had left them, and then said: “Excuse me, Mr. Ray. You mustn’t mind my smiling rather irrelevantly. We’ve had a great event at my house this week—in fact, we’ve had a boy.”