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Updated: June 23, 2025
"What are your present engagements?" "I haven't any." "Then you can take hold at once?" "Yes." "That's good!" Witherby now entered at large into the nature of the position which he offered Bartley. They talked a long time, and in becoming better acquainted with each other's views, as they called them, they became better friends.
It sounded in his ears like some other name. "Going to be in Boston some time?" "All the time," said Bartley, struggling to appear nonchalant. The revulsion from the despair into which he had fallen after his interview with Witherby was still very great. The order on the counting-room which the editor had given him shook in his hand.
Bartley began to respect Witherby's business ideas, and Witherby in recognizing all the admirable qualities of this clear-sighted and level-headed young man began to feel that he had secretly liked him from the first, and had only waited a suitable occasion to unmask his affection.
"What should you think of twenty dollars a week?" asked Witherby. "I shouldn't think it was enough," said Bartley, amazed at his own audacity, but enjoying it, and thinking how he had left Marcia with the intention of offering himself to Mr. Atherton as a clerk for ten dollars a week. "There is a great deal of labor in what you propose, and you command my whole time.
After that his position in the Events office was whatever he chose to make it, but he did not abuse his ascendency, and he even made a point of increased deference towards Witherby. Many courtesies passed between them; each took some trouble to show the other that he had no ill feeling.
Witherby, needlessly reminding her of the charity committees they had served on together; and then she went home and actually sent out notes to the plainest daughter and the maiden aunt of two of the most high-born families of her acquaintance. Olive came late, as if to get a whole effect of the affair at once; and her smile revealed Clara's failure to her, if she had not realized it before.
Willett's camp, and some facts and statistics I've picked up. I thought it might make an attractive feature of your Sunday edition." "The Events," said Mr. Witherby, solemnly, "does not publish a Sunday edition!" "Of course not," answered Bartley, inwardly cursing his blunder, "I mean your Saturday evening supplement." He handed him his manuscript. Mr.
I'll drive over to Witherby now and wait for the train and you'll be free of me." He turned again and moodily looked out of the window in the full flood of the sunset. "We must play the game, Dick," said Austin gently, "and go through the horrible farce of dinner for mother's sake." Dick heard him vaguely. Below, on the terrace, Viviette was walking, and she filled his universe.
"What I always wonder at in you is the rapidity with which you Ve taken on the city. You were quite in the green wood when you came here, and now you know your Boston like a little man. I suppose it's your newspaper work that's familiarized you with the place. Well, how do you like your friend Witherby, as far as you've gone?" "Oh, we shall get along, I guess," said Bartley.
It had sufficed with his acquaintance when he said that he had left the Events because he could not get on with Witherby; but he was very much astonished when it seemed to suffice with her. "Oh, well," she said, "I am glad of it. You will do better by yourself; and I know you can earn just as much by writing on the different papers."
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