But--if I could only get a little hope,--if I could just find out whether she liked me a little, that would give me more energy in my work, don't you see?
And that's where you could help me, David!" Helmsley smiled ever so slightly.
"Tell me how,"-- he said.
"Well, you might talk to her sometimes and ask her if she ever thinks of getting married--" "I have done that,"-- interrupted Helmsley--"and she has always said 'No.'" "Never mind what she _has_ said--ask her again, David,"-- persisted Angus--"And then lead her on little by little to talk about me--" "Lead her on to talk about you--yes!" and Helmsley nodded his head sagaciously.
"David, my dear old man, you _will_ interrupt me,"-- and Angus laughed like a boy--"Lead her on, I say,--and find out whether she likes me ever so little--and then----" "And then ?" queried Helmsley, his old eyes beginning to sparkle--"Must I sing your praises to her ?" "Sing my praises! No, by Jove!--there's nothing to praise in me.

I don't want you to say a word, David.

Let _her_ speak--hear what _she_ says--and then--and then tell _me_!" "Then tell _you_--yes--yes, I see!" And Helmsley nodded again in a fashion that was somewhat trying to Reay's patience.

"But, suppose she finds fault with you, and says you are not at all the style of man she likes--what then ?" "Then,"-- said Reay, gloomily--"my book will never be finished!" "Dear, dear!" Helmsley raised his hands with a very well acted gesture of timid concern--"So bad as all that!" "So bad as all that!" echoed Reay, with a quick sigh; "Or rather so good as all that.

I don't know how it has happened, David, but she has quite suddenly become the very life of my work.