"I thank you at least for that slight evidence of your confidence and esteem—"
"But," said Ouida, interrupting, "I have taken Disraeli's advice."
"And pray, what was that?" inquired Olivia.
"A young man, ambitious to succeed in public life, approached the great English statesman, and said: 'Mr. Disraeli, to what one great thing do you attribute your success in public life?' The wonderful Englishman grew thoughtful for a moment, and said: 'Well, sir, when I started out in public life, I resolved never to reply to what the newspapers might say about me.' 'Good,' said the young man, 'I will follow your advice,' and he started to depart. 'Hold! young man,' cried Mr. Disraeli, 'let me finish my story.' Continuing, he said: 'But on one occasion the London Telegraph came out with an accusation against me of so monstrous a character, that I felt constrained to deny it. And what do you suppose the damned rascally newspaper editor did? Why, he proved it.'"
Both women laughed merrily over the tale, which the Winters woman declared was in Ouida's usually happy and clever vein.
"But, my dear Ouida, I came to see what you had to say about Nugent's sermon."
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Absolutely nothing, my dear girl. If Mr. Nugent preaches against me, my art, it is because texts are scarce and he wants to draw a crowd."
"But, my dear Ouida, his personal, direct attack on you—you owe it to yourself to speak."
