A Parisian Romance — page 151: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

142 A PARISIAN ROMANCE, Henri had tried to add something to his slender income by his pen, but he found that, as is the case in all branches of art, there was a vast difference between the amateur and the professional. The honeyed words of praise from friends, to whom he had presented the pretty little blue and gold bound volume of his poems, printed at his own expense, were one thing, but the cold, hard judgment of the publisher, who was looking simply for what would sell, was another. Then, too, poetry is a drug in the market, and if Shakespeare spells ruin for a theatrical manager, so do poems by an unknown author, for a publishing house. The superb apartment in the Avenue del’ Alma had, of course, at once been given up, and the little family were now installed in a tiny uupretentious flat in a respectable, though thoroughly unfashion- able street. The servants had been dismissed, all except Maria, who, faithful girl that she was, in- sisted upon remaining to share the reduced fortunes of her mistress, declaring that she did not like change, and that she was used to the family. There was at least one member of the household who was vastly happier in poverty than she had been in the midst of affluence. Madame de Targy, relieved from the terrible burden she had borne so long, recovered her natural cheerfulness, and seemed to grow younger day by day. She was an admirable pianist, and had found no difficulty in procuring several pupils, thi 8 being -