All three laughed in subdued chorus. For the moment, Reardon
became a new man in his exultation over the contradictory
reviewers.

'Oh, Biffen told you, did he? Well,' continued Jasper, 'it was an
odd thing, but when I reached my lodgings on Saturday evening
there lay a note from Horace Barlow, inviting me to go and see
him on Sunday afternoon out at Wimbledon, the special reason
being that the editor of The Study would be there, and Barlow
thought I might like to meet him. Now this letter gave me a fit
of laughter; not only because of those precious reviews, but
because Alfred Yule had been telling me all about this same
editor, who rejoices in the name of Fadge. Your uncle, Mrs
Reardon, declares that Fadge is the most malicious man in the
literary profession; though that's saying such a very great deal
--well, never mind! Of course I was delighted to go and meet
Fadge. At Barlow's I found the queerest collection of people,
most of them women of the inkiest description. The great Fadge
himself surprised me; I expected to see a gaunt, bilious man, and
he was the rosiest and dumpiest little dandy you can imagine; a
fellow of forty-five, I dare say, with thin yellow hair and blue
eyes and a manner of extreme innocence. Fadge flattered me with
confidential chat, and I discovered at length why Barlow had
asked me to meet him; it's Fadge that is going to edit
Culpepper's new monthly--you've heard about it?--and he had
actually thought it worth while to enlist me among contributors!
Now, how's that for a piece of news?'

The speaker looked from Reardon to Amy with a smile of vast
significance.