Sandeau replied, “I am too slow for a journalist.”

“Good!” replied Aurore; “but I will help you!”

“Very good!” replied the editor; “but work, and bring me your articles as soon as you can.”

Madame Dudevant laid aside her pencil and took up the pen—­not to lay it down again.  She commenced a series of articles which puzzled the Parisian press.  The editor liked them, but desired that she should try her hand at romance.  In about six weeks Madame Dudevant and Jules Sandeau had completed a volume entitled “Rose and Blanche, or the Comedian and the Nun;” but they could find no publisher.  The editor came to their aid, and persuaded an old bookseller to give them four hundred francs for the manuscript.  When the book was to be published, they deliberated upon the name of the author. She disliked the scandal of authorship—­he feared his father’s curse; and the editor advised that the name of the law-student should be divided, and no friend would recognize the name.  So the story came out as written by Jules Sand.

The young people thought their fortunes made—­that the four hundred francs were inexhaustible.  Madame Dudevant now adopted a man’s costume for the first time, that she might go to the theater with advantage—­at least this was her excuse.  The young couple visited the theater at night, and Sandeau slept the days away.  The money soon was gone, and Madame Dudevant in her new extremity was advised to return to the chateau Nahant, and endeavor to get a legal separation from her husband, and an annual allowance.  When she set out, she left with Sandeau the plan of “Indiana.”  They were to divide the chapters of the new story; but when she came back he had not written a line of his task.  To his great surprise Aurore put into his hands the whole of the manuscript of the book.

“Read,” said she, “and correct!” He read the first chapter, and was full of praise.  “It needs no revision,” he said; “it is a master-piece!” He then declared that as he had not written any of the book, he would not allow the common name to be used.  She was greatly troubled, and had recourse to the editor.  He proposed that she still keep the name of Sand, but select another first name.  “Look in the calendar,” said he; “to-morrow is the day of St. George; take the name of George—­call yourself George Sand!” And this is the origin of that distinguished name.

“Indiana” was purchased for six hundred francs, but it sold so well that the publisher afterwards gave her a thousand francs more.  The editor of Figaro put two of his critics upon the book to review it.  They both condemned it as mediocre and without much interest.  But the book had a wonderful success, and Paris was thrown into a state of excitement about the author.  The journals added fuel to the fire by their remarks and criticisms, and at once Madame Dudevant was a great authoress.  She took elegant apartments, where