The instant success of the dramatization of “The Leavenworth Case” has again brought the fame of its gifted author prominently before the public. There are few writers of whose personality so little is known as that of Miss Green. From reading her novels one might be led to believe her to approach the masculine, so strong their reasoning and logic. However, nothing is farther from the truth. She is womanly, modest and retiring. Even in conversation she rarely ventures an assertion, and, having done so, trembles at her temerity, and actually will lose a night’s sleep thinking over the possibilities of having said too much.
She loves, however, to talk with literary workers who know their art, and delights to compare notes with them.
In private life she is Mrs. Charles Rohlfs, of Buffalo. In a pretty little home she lives with a devoted husband and two beautiful children, aged respectively six and four. Her home life, when not occupied with a thrilling detective story, is filled with the duties of any good wife and mother. Just now a rather serious problem confronts the lady. For four years her handsome, golden haired boy Sterling has worn dresses like those of his sister Rosamond, and fashioned by the same hand that writes of murder and mystery. But now the hour has come for breeches, and this costume Mrs. Rohlfs laughingly admits to be beyond her ken.
The author’s work is often done amid all kinds of discouraging noises. Questions from the kitchen to be answered, childish perplexities to be cleared away, callers to be received. With it all no one has ever seen her temper disturbed. She writes in the morning from one to five hours, the time varying with her mood. When she has planned far ahead she usually writes on until she has put her scheme on paper. She always writes with a lead pencil on manilla paper held in her lap. Her husband is the only one who has ever seen her at work. He speaks of his wife as a picture of intensity and absorption. When she is being driven on by the passion that her fancy has conjured or is approaching a climax, her eyes fire, her lips are compressed and her pencil seems fairly to fly.
Her home is charming, being furnished in rare good taste. Much of the furniture is of oak, made from special designs. Her desk is both simple and unique. The author’s portrait is prominent, and one notices many choice etchings and engravings.
Her reading is very general, preferably works of high standing, though she makes it a point to read the books of unknown writers. If they are worth reading she discovers it at a glance.
Her timidity is absolutely ludicrous. In fiction she has placed her characters in most trying situations. Great difficulties have risen in their lives, and one might think that the continued familiarity with surprise and embarrassment might engender contempt for actual occurrences of this sort in the author’s own life. The contrary is true. Mrs. Rohlfs is overcautious, especially in caring for her little ones. She is exquisitely sensitive in her discrimination between right and wrong. She is more than careful not to hurt the feelings of others and is never known to speak ill of any one.
Her appearance is pleasing. She is of medium height, has dark brown hair, blue eyes, a nose that defies classification and an expressive mouth. Her features are mobile. There are no set or definable expressions. The woman of one moment can scarcely be discovered in the woman of the next. Portraits fail to show her as her intimate friends know her. But while the habit of her thought has impressed her face with a peculiar expression of thoughtfulness there is a merry twinkle in her eye which shows she is not averse to fun.
Mrs. Rohlfs was in constant attendance at the rehearsals of her play and did not allow the actors to trifle with her text or “business,” and in every case they were compelled to admit that her instructions were based on good sense and on nature. The success “The Leavenworth Case” has not turned her head. She remains the same quiet, dignified lady, anxious to return to her home and children.
Mrs. Rohlfs has just completed a story which strange to relate has not a single detective in it. No doubt this will be the best story she has written.