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Updated: May 28, 2025
I made no allusion to what had passed, and waited with some curiosity to see how he would cover his disgrace. On the third morning, however, he did not appear, as was his custom, after breakfast to receive my instructions for the day. As I left the dining-room I happened to meet Rachel Howells, the maid.
Howells as an exponent of Americanism in literature, we have left him in an attitude almost of Americanus contra mundum at any rate in the posture of one who is so entirely absorbed by his delight in the contemporary and national existence around him as to be partially blind to claims separated from him by tracts of time and space.
He has in most instances mercifully spared us further descriptions of the interiors of New York houses at this epoch.... At a dinner party one of the guests refers to Howells as the "foremost novelist who is never read." The book is dedicated to "Cherubina, dulcissime rerum."
Bobby forced himself to speak deliberately, steadily: "To go for the night alone to the old room as Howells did." Robinson whistled. "Didn't believe you had that much nerve. Two men have tried that. What good would it do?" "If the answer's anywhere," Bobby said, "it must be hidden in that room. Howells felt it. I was sure of it when I was prevented from taking the evidence.
As it is, he is the victim of an intellectual foppery. Mr. W. D. Howells has something in common with Mr. James, but he is of stronger stuff not less essentially a gentleman, as his books reveal him, but more essentially a man. He has a sterling courage, and has never been afraid of his own opinions.
Prue and I and The Blithedale Romance were on an equal footing, so far as our game went, and Howells, Bret Harte and Dickens were all of far-off romantic horizon. Writers were singular, exalted beings found only in the East in splendid cities. They were not folks, they were demigods, men and women living aloof and looking down benignantly on toiling common creatures like us.
The author's many-mooded attitude toward Sentimental Tommy is a matter of human interest just as much as anything that Tommy feels himself. Let us admit, then, in spite of Mr. Howells, that the author of fiction has a right to assert himself as the narrator, provided that he be a person of interest and charm.
Yale took the lead from the start, and at the end of fifteen minutes was ahead by 16 points to 7.... This splendid victory is due in part to the general superiority of the New Haven eight, but too much credit cannot be given to little Howells, who steered a flawless contest.
Life: Austen- Leigh's Memoir of Jane Austen; Hill's Jane Austen, her Home and her Friends; Mitton's Jane Austen and her Times. Criticism: Pollock's Jane Austen; Pellew's Jane Austen's Novels; A. A. Jack's Essay on the Novel as Illustrated by Scott and Miss Austen; H. H. Bonnell's Charlotte Brontë, George Eliot, and Jane Austen; Essay, by Howells, in Heroines of Fiction. Maria Edgeworth.
I was more afraid of him than I was of the old room, but, as I've told you, the old room made me forget Master Robert." Robinson stepped to Bobby's side. "All along Howells was right. Tell me what you did with that evidence." Bobby turned away. Katherine tried to laugh. Graham beckoned to Robinson.
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