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I
suppose
you
were
--
originally
I
mean
--
an
author
by
profession
?
"
A
curious
sense
of
anger
burned
dully
within
me
.
'
Originally
'
an
author
?
Was
I
not
one
still
?
Was
I
to
be
given
credit
for
nothing
but
my
banking-book
?
'
Originally
'
?
Why
,
I
had
never
been
an
actual
'
author
'
till
now
--
I
had
simply
been
a
wandering
literary
hack
--
a
stray
'
super
'
of
Grub
Street
,
occasionally
engaged
to
write
articles
'
to
order
'
on
any
subject
that
came
uppermost
,
at
a
starvation
rate
of
pay
,
without
any
visible
prospect
of
rising
from
that
lowest
and
dirtiest
rung
of
the
literary
ladder
.
I
felt
myself
growing
red
,
then
pale
--
and
I
saw
that
Lucio
was
looking
at
me
fixedly
.
"
I
am
an
author
,
Lady
Sibyl
"
--
I
said
at
last
--
"
and
I
hope
I
may
soon
prove
my
right
to
be
acknowledged
as
one
.
'
Author
'
is
in
my
opinion
,
a
prouder
title
than
king
,
and
I
do
not
think
any
social
claims
will
deter
me
from
following
the
profession
of
literature
,
which
I
look
upon
as
the
highest
in
the
world
.
"
Lord
Elton
fidgetted
uneasily
in
his
chair
.
"
But
your
people
"
--
he
said
--
"
Your
family
--
are
they
literary
?
"
"
No
members
of
my
family
are
now
living
,
"
--
I
answered
somewhat
stiffly
--
"
My
father
was
John
Tempest
of
Rexmoor
.
"
"
Indeed
!
"
and
the
Earl
's
face
brightened
considerably
--
"
Dear
me
,
dear
me
!
I
used
to
meet
him
often
in
the
hunting
field
years
ago
.
You
come
of
a
fine
old
stock
,
sir
!
--
the
Tempests
of
Rexmoor
are
well
and
honourably
known
in
county
chronicles
.
"
I
said
nothing
,
feeling
a
trifle
heated
in
temper
,
though
I
could
not
have
quite
explained
why
.
"
One
begins
to
wonder
,
"
--
said
Lucio
then
in
his
soft
smooth
accents
--
"
when
one
is
the
descendant
of
a
good
English
county
family
--
a
distinct
cause
for
pride
!
--
and
moreover
has
the
still
more
substantial
fact
of
a
large
fortune
to
support
that
high
lineage
,
why
one
should
trouble
to
fight
for
merely
literary
honours
!
You
are
far
too
modest
in
your
ambitions
,
Tempest
!
--
high-seated
as
you
are
upon
bank-notes
and
bullion
,
with
all
the
glory
of
effulgent
county
chronicles
behind
you
,
you
still
stoop
to
clutch
the
laurel
!
Fie
,
my
dear
fellow
!
You
degrade
yourself
by
this
desire
to
join
the
company
of
the
immortals
!
"
His
satirical
tone
was
not
lost
upon
the
company
;
and
I
,
who
saw
that
in
his
own
special
way
he
was
defending
the
claims
of
literature
against
those
of
mere
place
and
money
,
felt
soothed
and
grateful
.
The
Earl
looked
a
trifle
annoyed
.
