“This is a very remarkable library for a small village to possess,” he remarked to Miss Lurida.

“It is, indeed,” she said.  “Have you found it well furnished with the books you most want?”

“Oh, yes,—­books enough.  I don’t care so much for the books as I do for the Newspapers.  I like a Review well enough,—­it tells you all there is in a book; but a good abstract of the Review in a Newspaper saves a fellow the trouble of reading it.”

“You find the papers you want, here, I hope,” said the young lady.

“Oh, I get along pretty well.  It’s my off-time, and I don’t do much reading or writing.  Who is the city correspondent of this place?”

“I don’t think we have any one who writes regularly.  Now and then, there is a letter, with the gossip of the place in it, or an account of some of the doings at our Society.  The city papers are always glad to get the reports of our meetings, and to know what is going on in the village.”

“I suppose you write about the Society to the papers, as you are the Secretary.”

This was a point-blank shot.  She meant to question the young man about his business, and here she was on the witness-stand.  She ducked her head, and let the question go over her.

“Oh, there are plenty of members who are willing enough to write, —­especially to give an account of their own papers.  I think they like to have me put in the applause, when they get any.  I do that sometimes.”  (How much more, she did not say.)

“I have seen some very well written articles, which, from what they tell me of the Secretary, I should have thought she might have written herself.”

He looked her straight in the eyes.

“I have transmitted some good papers,” she said, without winking, or swallowing, or changing color, precious little color she had to change; her brain wanted all the blood it could borrow or steal, and more too.  “You spoke of Newspapers,” she said, without any change of tone or manner:  “do you not frequently write for them yourself?”

“I should think I did,” answered the young man.  “I am a regular correspondent of ‘The People’s Perennial and Household Inquisitor.’”

“The regular correspondent from where?”

“Where!  Oh, anywhere,—­the place does not make much difference.  I have been writing chiefly from Naples and St. Petersburg, and now and then from Constantinople.”

“How long since your return to this country, may I ask?”

“My return?  I have never been out of this country.  I travel with a gazetteer and some guide-books.  It is the cheapest way, and you can get the facts much better from them than by trusting your own observation.  I have made the tour of Europe by the help of them and the newspapers.  But of late I have taken to interviewing.  I find that a very pleasant specialty.  It is about as good sport as trout-tickling, and much the same kind of business.  I should like to send the Society an account of one of my interviews.  Don’t you think they would like to hear it?”