"But it's not news!"

"It's not news," said Elliott doubtfully; "but it's the kind
of story that made Frank O'Malley famous. It's the kind of
story that drives men out of this business into the arms of
what Kipling calls 'the illegitimate sister.'"

It seldom is granted to a man on the same day to give his
whole heart to a girl and to be patted on the back by his
managing editor; and it was this combination, and not the
drinks he dispensed to the staff in return for its
congratulations, that sent Sam home walking on air. He loved
his business, he was proud of his business; but never before
had it served him so well. It had enabled him to tell the
woman he loved, and incidentally a million other people, how
deeply he honored her; how clearly he appreciated her power
for good. No one would know he meant Sister Anne, save two
people--Sister Anne and himself; but for her and for him that
was as many as should know. In his story he had used real
incidents of the day; he had described her as she passed
through the wards of the hospital, cheering and sympathetic;
he had told of the little acts of consideration that endeared
her to the sick people.

The next morning she would know that it was she of whom he
had written; and between the lines she would read that the
man who wrote them loved her. So he fell asleep, impatient
for the morning. In the hotel at which he lived the REPUBLIC
was always placed promptly outside his door; and, after many
excursions into the hall, he at last found it. On the front