From all this it had come to pass that that dabbling in literature which had been commenced partly perhaps from a sense of pleasure in the work, partly as a passport into society, had been converted into hard work by which money if possible might be earned. So that Lady Carbury when she wrote to her friends, the editors, of her struggles was speaking the truth. Tidings had reached her of this and the other man's success, and,--coming near to her still,--of this and that other woman's earnings in literature. And it had seemed to her that, within moderate limits, she might give a wide field to her hopes. Why should she not add a thousand a year to her income, so that Felix might again live like a gentleman and marry that heiress who, in Lady Carbury's look-out into the future, was destined to make all things straight! Who was so handsome as her son? Who could make himself more agreeable? Who had more of that audacity which is the chief thing necessary to the winning of heiresses? And then he could make his wife Lady Carbury. If only enough money might be earned to tide over the present evil day, all might be well.

Because of this, Lady Carbury's dabbling in literature had become hard work by which money might be earned. When she wrote to the editors of her struggles, she was speaking the truth. Other women made good earnings from literature. Why should she not add a thousand a year to her income, so that Felix might again live like a gentleman and marry an heiress? Who was so handsome as her son? Who could make himself more agreeable? If only enough money might be earned to tide her over the present evil day, all might be well.
