Tales of the City Room
short, always interesting. He touched lightly on many subjects, and she was the gainer. He commented on the style of her stories. He criticised her English, and gave her a list of books for reference and study. He praised her work freely, where there was ground for praise, and criticised sharply and discriminatingly where censure was demanded. He suggested and advised as only a loyal friend could, and beneath it all was an undercurrent of deep, unselfish tenderness that touched her heart. The sweet unspoiled nature of the woman responded to this as the flowers he brought her responded to her care of them. Unconsciously, as time passed, she grew to lean on him, to watch for his letters, to rely on his judgment, to act in important matters as she believed that he would have her act. The atmosphere of his sturdy devotion was as real and as sweet to her as the perfume of his roses.
"Don't be too pathetic in your pathetic tales," he wrote her once. "Let your readers shed their own tears;" and the memory of the terse comment was a fixed one, which strengthened her work materially.
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