for you I should never have begun it. Take my play, James; take it as
your own. For yours it is. Put your name to it, and produce it, if you
love me, under your own signature. If this hurts your pride, I will
word my request differently. You alone are able to manage the business
side of the production. You know the right men to go to. To approach
them on behalf of a stranger's work is far less likely to lead to
success. I have assumed, you will see, that the play is certain to be
produced. But that will only be so if you adopt it as your own. Claim
the authorship, and all will be well."

Much more I wrote to James in the same strain; and my reward came next
day in the shape of a telegram: "Accept thankfully.--Cloyster."

Of the play and its reception by the public there is no need to speak.
The criticisms were all favourable.

Neither the praise of the critics nor the applause of the public
aroused any trace of jealousy in James. Their unanimous note of praise
has been a source of pride to him. He is proud--ah, joy!--that I am to
be his wife.

I have blotted the last page of this commonplace love-story of mine.

The moon has come out from behind a cloud, and the whole bay is one
vast sheet of silver. I could sit here at my bedroom window and look at
it all night. But then I should be sure to oversleep myself and be late
for breakfast. I shall read what I have written once more, and then I
shall go to bed.

I think I shall wear my white muslin tomorrow.