Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the city room.djvu/19

 Miss Herrick's face flushed a little as she returned his sunny smile. She was still blushing slightly as she entered the managing editor's office.

That gentleman sat at his desk, barricaded by waste-paper baskets and bundles of proofs. Small and grimy boys trailed in at intervals, adding to the interesting collection before him, telegrams and cards and notes. A habitual furrow between his eyes was deepened,—for the occasion, his visitor told herself in the bitterness of the moment,—but the effect was softened by a really charming smile. It was said that "The Searchlight's" presiding genius always wore that smile when he was giving a difficult assignment to one of his staff. It spoke of hope and confidence, and, incidentally, of the futility of excuse and objection. The young reporter had seen it before, and now found herself fixing a fascinated but hopeless gaze upon it. Her apprehensions were strengthened by the efforts of a young man with weak eyes and a corrugated brow, who sat in one corner diligently playing on a typewriter. He stopped long enough to recognize the young woman, and