HER FIRST INTERVIEW

New Zealand Tablet, 9 August 1906, Page 3

HER FIRST INTERVIEW

She had just had a talk with the city editor of the afternoon paper and had won his consent for a week's trial as reporter. All the world didn't know this, but all the world or that bit of it that takes notice might have known, as it looked at the glowing cheeks and bright eyes of the girl, that something had happened to make her joyous. She walked as if on air, and she had to bite her hps to keep from smiling broadly at every one she passed. She was good to look at in this mood of happiness, for it beautifiod a face prevented, usually, from more than passable prettiness by a pronounced irregularity of features. But the sunny brown hair with a tendency to furl saucily about the temples and lustrous dark eyes that look at you solemnly or sparkled with humor made you almost forgive the hopelessly crooked nose The mouth that was too large for a girl's, had, as a friend declared, an adjustable attachment at the right corner that made it twist up or down, according to the mood of the maid. In the solitude of her thoughts she had often pictured this moment of triumph, but now that it had come, the realisation seemed too dcliciously good to be true. When she had told one or two of her friends that she intended trying for a reporter's place on the afternoon paper in her native Southern city— not society reporter, she scorned that, but regular local reporter— they had laughed incredulously at her. Friends are often good at that. A woman on the reporting staff of a newspaper in that conservative city was an untried experiment Nevertheless, she had determined, and determination with Elizabeth Hammond meant something. A month a«-o she had been to the editor and submitted her case ontv to be put off until another lime, and for four long weeks they had been going tlntmgh a oolite fencing match. Only to-day, finding lesistance useless to wear oft the inflexibility of her purpose, he had turned her over to the city ediior with instructions to do with her as he cliose. Paitly because it was hard for the gallant young city editor to refuse anything to an at-tractive-looking girl and partly because he was " somewhat cowed hy the look of unflinching determination in those brown eyes, he gave a leluciant consent to a trial of a week. He knew siie would fail, but he also knew by looking at her that she would never be satisfied until she tried. It occurred to him as he noted the look of confident joy that met his words that he didn't envy himself when it should become his , ,]. ' luiu down ' lhis as P' ra nt at the end of the From her fust entrance Elizabeth loved the atmosphere of the office. She, that could never abide an untidy room, revelled in the fearful dirt, disorder and general air of disorganisation apparent. It was ' characteristic' 'It even smells newsy,' she thought to herself, being in happy ignoi-anee that the odor she sniffed was a combination of pipe smoke cheap cigarettes, and delicacies that the office boy was at that moment cooking on a tiny gas stove in a corner of the office. She had accomplished a very dear purpose, and that was why the world looked so might to her This was Saturday, and on Monday she was going to the office to get a trial assignment— ami then would follow five other days of trial assignments in which she would astonish the placid city editor and her knowing friends and then— and then, but there was a lone vista n'f dreams linked together by ' thens.' Everything seemed in tune with her happiness, and the sunshine looked unusually glorious, though it fell on dirty, dust-powdered pavements and business houses Somewhere among her tumbling thoughts and feelines there was a desire to open her purse and share its contents with all the little newsboys and gamins The wish rose uppermost now and then, and she had to restrain it with difficulty. Early Monday mowing she was at the office She wore a plain short skirt and shirt waist, with a rather severe walking hat. She wasn't .going into this work to look pretty ; she was intensely in earnest. The ciiv editor decided, as he noted this earnestness, that lie should leave town on Saturday , and get, his assistant to tell the new reporter that •he was*, very sorry, but' etc. He believed he shouldn't care to face her disappointment, but way down in his heart he admired her ' Your assignment this morning, Miss he said, will be to interview Senator Battle, the million-

aire politician from Massachusetts, who will pass through here to-day at ten o'clock on his private car. He will wait over some time to make connection with the train going to New Orleans. You are to see him and talk with him. As you have seen in the papers, he is in the South to further investigate matters here in reference to a Bill it is rumored he will introduce at the coming session of Congress. It isn't probable that he will discuss this question with a leporter, but anything you can get from him on any line will make a good " story." If you like, Miss Hammond, as you are new at the work, 1 will send one of the men with you to show you how to tackle your assignment.' ' Thank you,' she answered, ' but 1 prefer to go alone.' The editor wheeled about in his chair in time to hide a smile of amusement at the undaunted assurance of this recruit. lie couldn't help admit (ing to himself that he had acted scoundielly. Senator Battle was notoriously opposed to reporters, and never under any conditions gave interviews. ' But,' the editor thought in extenuation of his action, 'it is as well to break the spirit of this young aspiror first, as last,' for he knew it had to come. A woman as local reporter on this paper was an impossibility. He had expected to be bombarded with questions about how to get an interview, but he had mistaken his repoiter for once. She had not asked one. It was not that Elizabeth fell over-confident when given her assignment, for she had never been so frightened in her life. She hadn't the dimmest idea how to go about it, but get it she would, she determined, and that unaided. She hated that city editor for looking as if he pitied hei, and she liked him, too, for giving her a chance— grudgingly given though it was. She was almost suffocated by ihe swift pressing of feelings against her heart, but they trooped away at last and left a calm that meant deteimfnation". She would do it. She would make a success of this fust story, and then —and then— (enter vista of dreams). When she reached the Tnion Depot the train that the Senator's private car was attached to had just pulled in. She stopped an old coloied poi ter with the question : ; Can you tell me whore Ii an lind Senator Battle '' ' ' I guess you ain't likely to see the boss, Miss,' ho said, grinning!; bioadly , ' but I c'n show you whole to lind his secretary. You lest lolhi me' lie led the way to ihe real cai and mounted the steps of the fiont end, and was just about to enter when he said to her, ' Huh ho is, ma'am, light now. Huh's a young lady, sii, wantin' to see de boss,' and the old daikev backed off the nlalfoun. After coming f l om ihe bright sunlight into the passageway, she could ]usl distinguish the form of the man standing there, but after a second, before she could speak to him, she heaul hoi name almost gasped out in a voice stiangcly familiar. For an endless second they simply stared at each other, both unable to speak, then the man bioke the silence. ' Beth,' he whispeied, and would have loaned forward to take both her hands, but she drew back a little and extended one to him. 1 How do you do, Mr. Campbell 9 I am glad to see you again, and how have you been since— er— we saweach other last > ' Ilei voice was like a lash to him. ' Beth ' Beth ' ' he said, and theie was the old hurt look in his eves that she had la.st seen there, but it died away, and he asked m a dispassionate, businesslike tone, ' Can I do anything for you here Miss Hammond ? ' And then it all camp back to her— the interview, and her heart sank. If her courage had been at low ebb before this unexpected meeting, thi-re was scarcely a drop left now. ' ' Oh— l forgot,' she stammered. ' 1 must see Senator Battle at once, but first tell mo ' (her curiosity getting the better of fieri, ' what are you doing here ? 1 thought you were living in New York ? ' I was until a few months ago, when my health played traitor. I went to Massachusetts to recuperate, visiting at the country home of my father's old triend, Senator Battle, for whom lam now acting as temporary secretary. lam afraid you cannot sec him as he has given orders riot to admit any one. Do you know him?' he asked Abruptly. Why Elizabeth Hammond should wish to ?peak to the Senator unless he were a friend of hers puzzled him. ' No, I don't know him, but, you see— er— l am dowork, anrt I want to get an interview with him for the afternoon paper ' 'Newspaper work? [An interview? ' he asked in a bewildered way. ' But {Senator Battle never gives an interview, A reporter is not even permitted on the car.' it il^ r U V.. m V st s ? e him " «eor-cr-Mr. Campbell, lll ls cc mm y fir , st 'story," and if I fail to get it, all my Hopes— Oh, don'fc you see it will be dreadful ? Tell him

that, won t you ? You can use your influence. It means so much to me. Tell him that— er— we are— that I am an old friend of yours, won't you ? ' " She had stepped nearer to him in her earnestness, and stood pressing her hands together against her chest— a favorite gesture when she was excited— and in her eyes there was a pleading that was hard to withstand. He looked a moment as if he should have liked to take her slight form into his arms, but he only said I will see what I can do for you/ and he disappeared into the next apartment. Then she could have bitten her tongue out for havinc been impetuous enough to plead with George Campbell on the score of being an old friend. She thought of him when she had last seen him, in Bremen, more than avo years before, and of the quarrel that had separated them after an engagement of three months. She never had been able to recall exactly what she had said o him in that moment of angei, but she knew it must have been sometlunp- unpardonable, for he had not even attempted an ex|> anation, merely turned on his heel and nnnno. a T ay \K Ul f^ Passed after that coursed quickly thiough her thoughts as it had a thousand times since its happenmg-the hasty departure with her chaperon" on he next train after deposing a package containing the uig, a few notes, and his presents at the hotel for him, giving not the slightest clue to her destination then the long period of silence that had elapsed when SSp ?£ r ? n /V i* o orel, rcl from him - Slie h ad always feH sine that if he had continued to love her as he once did he would have tollowed her to the ends of the earth to offer an explanation. She had seldom taken into considera ion the indomitable pride of this man. She had the utmost contempt for herself because she had never been able to put him wholly out of her thoughts, ann now, just as she was entering this new work with all the earnestness and determination of her nature bent on forgetting heiself and him, to think that he shou d ciass her pathway ! U looked as if fate were taunUnL hoi. But she would succeed in ih.s new work she determined, in spite of ton (ieon>e Campbells pcaSnce. lh ° URhIS ™ C intplru ' )lpcl then by his apsaid Sena(Or Battle wiH Sf>e >' ou ' Mss Hammond,' he Calm and unmoved outwaidlv, Flizaboth fell a nurrh ness within that threatened her. She was us hcied mto" a drawing-room, comfoitably furnished and as commo dious as the limited space allowed commo- ' Senator Rattle, this is mv ftiend, Miss Hammond ' she vaguely heard Mr. Campbell say The nunTbness H-d hei>T.y c 7 a3 ' !? a , wild boating "that somehow affected hei h. oat so that he, voice .sounded unnatural sixuy years olri 1S ° f r- Sl ! akinK hands wilh a nian about was white ul r lla i u \ or tlie fli "^ that remained, Kluabeth now thought the kindest she "ha* ever seen ho eyes were a keen blue that seemed to loo\ throu C l; that! 1 nevT^ » ws ff"; S^b"' can cast bread on (he waters, and it may ot it n v 7KB mmmmm Senator Battle had admitted her sWlv on th* n \ an me her story and submit it to his secretary before re" turning to the newspaper office. So EliziWh f«, !«i V self seated at a desk in the apart men t i^SSml th2t ,n which she had interviewed the Senator. The secretary

sat opposite by the window, supposedly reading the morning paper. She nervously fingered her pencil, at see how to begin this, her first stoiy. She wrote four different paragraphs as a starter and scratched them all out. She thought gloomily that if each ' story ' meant all this pounding and thumping and surging in the region of her heart tliat she, would soon die an early death of heart disease. That paper opposite worried her ;it didn't rattle a bit, but remained stiff and defiant. She felt convinced that he Avasn't reading at all. She knew she couldn't stand it any longer, so after clearing her throat once or twice ominously she said : 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Campbell, but would you mind going out until I have written this ? The fact of the matter is that 1 never could write in the room where anybody else is. You see,' she said, grasping at excuses, ' the rattling of your paper makes me a little nervous.' 'I am sorry to have disturbed you— if you had just told me sooner I should have left you to yourself I shall be out here on the platform, and you can tell me when you are ready for me to glance over your article.' He concealed a smite with difficulty, wondering what sort of a newspaper woman she would make, having to write in the same office with a dozen other reporters, if the presence of one person disturbed 4ier so Once into her subject, her pencil new fast enough and everything else was forgotten in the pleasure of writing. After twenty minutes she called Mr. Campbell and handed the laigely written sheets of paper to him Nothing could be more humiliating to her than to have to submit to him her first story, which she felt to he crude and unfinished, written as it had been under such difficulties. He took the article without a word and leaning against the wall, began leading it. Elizabeth walked to an opposite window of the car and looked out A few moments passed, and then the man looked un from the sheets in his hand. 1 Beth,' he said, in a dreaiy sort of tone, ' are you never going to let me explain about that misunderstanding at Bremen ? ' She didn't answer nor even turn her head, because she didn't care to do so at this moment. She had been through a seveie strain for an hour, and .^he felt her nerves giving w<ty. ' "Why didn't you answer my letter or cable ? ' he continued, after a pause. ' What letter and cable ? ' she asked, turning toward him quickly. ' 3 wrote to you immediately alter you left, explaining the foolish circumstances that stirred your anger and, receiving no reply, I cabled to ask if "i might follow you and explain in person. I addressed them both in care of your aunt in London, thinking you might have gone there, but never a word from you.' ' I received neither. From the day we parted I have never had any communication from you. A friend who met you in New York more than a year ago happened to mention that you were living there.' ' And you never learned that the other girl was— *" ' J s the interview satisfactory, George ? ' They both started to find Senator Battle standing at the door. 1 Not yet, 1 leplied George. • I beg your pardon, I mean I haven t quite finished reading it ' he hastened to add. ' I think we can trust it to Miss Hammond. We have only ten minutes more before we leave, and I have some telegrams that I shall have to get you to attend to at once. You will paidori unceremoniousness, lam sure ? ' he said nodding pleasantly to his interviewer, who hastily took her leave. ' The other girl was-the other girl was—' The sentence darted back and forth through her mind as she made her way to the office, and was not forgotten until sne mounted the steps leading to the news-room and she thought of the pleasure she would have in turning over her story to the city editor, who had sent her on wnat he must have considered a barren errand. She hugged her ' copy to her in joyful anticipation of his astonishment. With perfect calmness and assumed indifference she handed it to him in response to his ques- ™?\ * Co £ ld you .see. see lhe Sena <-or ? ' And then she watched him as he read it, his face at first expressive ?f? f a-stonishment, gradually expanding into a broad grin Inis is great r ' he exclaimed. ' How on earth did you work it ?' he asked, looking at Elizabeth almost wim awe. I don t know,' she answered smiling. 4lt wasat very hard.' He read on, and then with the exclamation Oh, this is a hot story ! ! he rushed off with it down the hall and into the managing editor's A boy of eighteen, a, raw but aspiring reporter who had [teen waiting with his ' copy ' to consult the city editor, was leaning on the railine about that official's desk gazing at Elizabeth with undisguised envy and admiration The typewriters in the room had suddenly lazeTo'f tvS SJ/X %™ U ™ than saW the stea <*

She went to the desk that bad been; assigned her and dropped into _the chair, proud but wofully tired, and with half a sentence still uppermost in her thoughts : * The ° JL was — ' She wished the men wouldn't stare so. The office had somehow lost its-attractiveness since morning, the smell of it no longer appealed to her tired senses, and she would have Liked to put her head down on the desk as she had done long ago when she wanted to cry at school. But just then the city editor rushed in, followed \>y the managing editor, who was profuse in his congratulations. There was a confusing discussion about a six point ' or. a ' seven point ' head, and then about sub-heads, 1 until Elizabeth became conscious of her own head, which was aching sadly-. Learning that her work for the day was over, she left the office. + v The paper th . a t> afternoon had her story flaunted on the first page with her name signed to it in bold type. 7£ c ?w ?*,? fc Of *i* gave her that feelin « of satisfaction that follows the successful accomplishment of a hard task, but by the time she had responded a half-dozen times to telephone calls from friends, answering multitudinous questions, and receiving congratulations, she was heartily sick of her ' story,' and hated the thought of her name spread broadcast over the country in black staringj_ype Nothing mattered much to her but the niiishrng of the sentence that, resist as she would kept pounding thiough her head, 'The oilier girl was—' Who was she ? And what was she to him ? were the pivotal thoughts about which her mind whirled and whirled That night, when she had gone to her room, a telegram was brought, to her. __ She opened it hastily, her heart beating an unaccountable tattoo, and she read— — ' Was my fust cousin, t'an't you accept the explanation, and also ' George Campbell ? ' ♦ Newspaper circles knew Elizabeth Hammond no more In spite of viEOious protests from the managing and city editors, her first ' story ' was her last. The cause soon leaked out, but if the circumstances had become known they might have been turned into a trood ' romance story' by the enterprising Sunday editor.—' The Pilgrim '