"Eminent journalist John Harrington reviews book favourably in
evening paper suggesting that you are the actual author. May we
deny or confirm?"

She thought for some minutes before deciding--and went to Miss
Leigh with the telegram in her hand.

"Godmother mine!" she said, kneeling down beside her--"Tell me,
what shall I do? Is it any use continuing to wear the veil of
mystery? Shall I take up my burden and bear it like a man?"

Miss Lavinia smiled, and drew the girl's fair head to her bosom.

"Poor little one!" she said, tenderly--"I know just what you feel
about it! You would rather remain quietly in your own dreamland
than face the criticism of the world, or be pointed out as a
'celebrity'--yes, I quite understand! But I think you must, in
justice to yourself and others, 'take up the burden'--as you put
it--yes, child! You must wear your laurels, though for you I
should prefer the rose!"

Innocent shivered, as with sudden cold.

"A rose has thorns!" she said, as she got up from her kneeling
attitude and moved away--"It's beautiful to look at--but it soon
fades!"

She sent off her reply wire to the publishers without further
delay.