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 tion play of a great new school"; and Ogle, now recalling this passage, failed to see that the enthusiast's "perhaps" was as cautious as Olivia Tinker's "maybe." But "The Pastoral Scene," besides being a triumph with the Few, had become instantly an institution with the Many; a severe weekly periodical had called it "one of those great popular successes that affect not only the art of a country, but the life of a country." It was his first substantial achievement, and he thought of the play, since it was recent, as his "magnum opus";—having used that expression to himself without a blush. And here was a little Midland girl telling him that what she got from it was an idea that he could do better—maybe! Suffering from wounded love and from betrayal as he was, the young playwright found time to add to his other emotions a sense of outrage, to regret the sympathetic inclinations that had led him to Olivia's side, and to withdraw them utterly.

"You're very kind," he said.

An infinitesimal bit of what he felt was expressed to her in his voice; and she wished to be as kind as she could. "I haven't ever mentioned to my father or mother that you wrote it," she said. "You see, I went to school in New York until only last year, and