The Argosy — page 359: what you’re looking at

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

336 Mrs. Henry Wood. II, Ir was said of Mrs. Henry Wood, as it was once said of Lord Byron, that she awoke one morning to find herself famous. This was to a great extent true. Though Last Lynne had been out some little time, had been unusually well reviewed, and was already popular, it was only the review in the 7Z7zmes that set the whole world talking and reading about it. This review also created such a demand for the book that Messrs. Spottiswoode set to work night and day to reprint it for Mr. Bentley, and one edition after another was quickly exhausted. Though only a young boy at the time, I remember that morning well. We were then in England, and my father, who, as already remarked, was a great politician, could scarcely have taken his break- fast without the help of his beloved Zzmes. ‘True, Parliament had not yet assembled, but it was about to do so, and the bugle notes were already sounding for battle. The paper happened to be a little late that morning, and we were already seated at the table when it was brought in. On taking it up, on the outer column of the page, the first thing that struck his eye was the heading “East Lynne,” followed by a long and glowing notice. “ East Lynne,” he remarked quietly, looking across at my mother. “The Zzmes gives it a long review, this morning.” I remember jumping up in wild excitement, and leaning over his shoulder whilst he read it through, not aloud, but silently. The calmest of the three present was the one most interested: the author of the book. I had looked at her when the circumstance was mentioned, and saw the flush of sudden emotion pass and repass, wavelike, over her beautiful face. She had been wondering whether the Zzmes would review it; hoping it would do so; so much depended upon it. Yet, when it came, she received it, as she did all other things in life, whether for good or for ill, calmly and quietly : the calmness of very deep feeling. ‘Though her anxiety to know what was said was as intense as her interest, she remained seated and asked no question, until my father, having read to the end, rose and handed the paper to her. . ‘“ Forgive me,” he then said. “TI felt compelled to finish it, and fear I forgot that your interest in it must be even greater than mine.” She took the paper from his hand with her very rare smile and glance, and read the review without remark: and no one could tell what was passing in her mind. In those days reviews were very different from reviews in these, and were much more powerful in their effect. A great review in the Times then made the fortune of a book and established the fame of its writer. ‘This was no doubt chiefly due to the fact that the Times only gave exceptional reviews in very rare instances, Conniclooolks. comin |