  A Vision. The lawn at Dirkham Grange was a gay scene. The Institute was opened, the luncheon consumed, the Royal Duke gone, full to the last of graciousness, though the poor fellow was hungry for solitude and cigars; and now the society of the county was unbending in friendly condescension to the society of the town, and talking the whole thing over under the trees and beside the bright flower-beds. Lord Cransford, between Janet and Dale, mingled praises of the ode with congratulations on the engagement; no one would have guessed that he shared a son's disappointment. The Mayor indifferently dissembled his exultation over the whisper of a knighthood which a hint from his Royal Highness had set running through the company. Mrs. Johnstone sat placidly in an armchair, the ruby velvet spread in careful folds, while Sir Harry Fulmer paid her compliments, and wondered where his wife was, and how soon they might go; and his wife walked with the Squire, declaring in her impetuous way that Nellie Fane's deceit was the most beautiful and touching thing she had Philip Hume sat alone under a spreading tree, looking on, and talking to nobody. The bustle of the morning, and the sumptuous midday meal worked together with the warm afternoon air and the distant sounds of the yeomanry band to make him a little drowsy, and he watched the people walking to and fro, and heard their chatter in a half-wakeful, half-sleeping state. And, strange as it seems in this workaday, skeptical age, he fell into a sort of trance, and visions of what should be were vouchsafed to him, and if the visions were not true, at least they had a look of truth. He saw a man, handsome still, for all that his thick hair was a little thinned by time and his waistcoat was broadening, and the man read in a mellow voice lines, which Philip did not hear very plainly, about the greatness of He awoke with a start. Dale was smiling down on him with his old friendly smile, and saying to Janet Delane: "We shall never let this old chap leave us for long, shall we, Jan?" THE END. Twelfth Edition. THE PRISONER OF By ANTHONY HOPE. 16mo, buckram, gilt top, with frontispiece, 75 cents. "The ingenious plot, the liveliness and spirit of the narrative, and its readable style."—Atlantic Monthly. "A glorious story, which cannot be too warmly recommended to all who love a tale that stirs the blood. Perhaps not the least among its many good qualities is the fact that its chivalry is of the nineteenth, not of the sixteenth century; that it is a tale of brave men and true, and of a fair woman of to-day. The Englishman who saves the king ... is as interesting a knight as was Bayard.... The story holds the reader's attention from first to last."—Critic. "The dash and galloping excitement of this rattling story."—London Punch. "A more gallant, entrancing story has seldom been written."—Review of Reviews. "It is not often that such a delightful novel falls into the reviewer's hands."—London AthÆneum. "A rattling good romance."—N. Y. Times. "The plot is too original and audacious to be spoiled for the reader by outlining it. The author is a born story-teller, and has, moreover, a very pretty wit of his own."—The Outlook. "A grand story.... It is dignified, quick in action, thrilling, terrible."—Chicago Herald. Second Edition. HENRY A. BEERS'S A SUBURBAN PASTORAL And Five Other Tales of American Life, and Two Old English Legends. 16mo, buckram, gilt top, with frontispiece. 75 cents. "No collection of short stories by an American writer, lately published, has made a more entertaining book ... differ greatly from the work of any other of the many New England writers whose names come to mind ... a trifle too much of the humor of the day is their single fault."—N. Y. Times. "['A Suburban Pastoral'] so devoid of pretension or effort, so freshly and frankly written, so quiet in its humor, and with its suggestion of pathos so latent in the emotions it awakens ... hereafter we shall remember him among the sweetest, tenderest, and gravest of our story-tellers."—Mail and Express. "'A Midwinter Night's Dream' is a beautiful example of writing which is permeated with delicate fancy.... 'Split Zephyrs' discusses many of those problems which you will hear debated almost every night in June under the elms and in old college haunts."—Life. "A skill and delicacy worthy of Mr. Henry James."—Kate Field's Washington. "Marked by powerful but artistically suppressed feeling."—Dial. "Effective and thoroughly readable."—Outlook. "Its ['A Suburban Pastoral'] description is realistic, its dialogue vivacious, and its situations dramatic. The seven other tales are entertaining, and each one is unique."—New York Observer. "For some time there has not been published a better collection of stories."—Detroit Free Press. QUAKER IDYLS. By Mrs. S. M. H. Gardner, 16mo, buckram, with frontispiece, 75 cents. Twelfth Street Meeting and Uncle Joseph both treat of the bashful Quaker in love, with a quiet humor and an effective but unobtrusive description of Quaker customs. The Two Gentlewomen were once Friends; but one of them having become the widow of a fast young Englishman, they both take up the ways of the mother country. A courtly old colonel courts them both with rare impartiality. Our Little Neighbors is a sympathetic picture of childhood, with a quaintly humorous ending. Even more humorous is Pamelia Tewksbury's Courtship, laid in central New York. Mrs. Gardner's treatment of this episode, though it recalls Miss Wilkins, can well bear the comparison. Next come the Ante-Bellum Letters, which occupy about a third of the book and make an excellent foil to the more demure tales which they interrupt like a sort of vigorous interlude. The Quakeress who writes them is suddenly plunged into the comparative dissipations of Boston, into the lively society of Harvard undergraduates, and into gay raiment that distresses her; but this lively intermezzo ends with a graver strain. The figures of the great Abolitionists are faintly seen, and at the trial of a poor negro boy, who is demanded as a fugitive slave, Lucretia Mott appears and sits by the prisoner, cheering him through the long night session of the court. The frontispiece represents this scene. The book closes with a quaint old story, way back in 1815, in which a romantic French boy, escaped from jail, and a Quakeress, more beautiful than her parents care to have her, figure prominently. There is a deep note of pathos in this tale, and the good influence of the Quakers in prison reform is shown, as their brave work for abolition has been in the Ante-Bellum Letters. Here and there a few lines give remarkable nature-pictures, as in the following: "The midsummer heat was upon the land. The red sun set in splendor, and the blood-red moon rose as in wrath." Jerome's John Ingerfield; The Woman of the Saeter, Silhouettes, Variety Patter, and The Lease of the Cross-keys. The title-story (half the book) and the two that follow are in serious vein. With portrait of Jerome and illustrations. Small 16mo. 75 cents. "This dainty little volume, contrived to look like a tall folio in miniature ... the creepy Norwegian ghost story (The Woman of the Saeter) ... the vague but picturesque sketch called Silhouettes.... The first (John Ingerfield) is a very sweet and pathetic love story ... true to the best there is in human nature ... many diverse traits of character and striking incidents being compressed within its narrow limits.... It is a good thing to write an honest, wholesome, old-fashioned love story like John Ingerfield."—New York Times. "Rare combination of true pathos and thoroughly modern humor."—The Churchman. "Variety Patter and The Lease of the Cross-keys are in lighter vein; the former having delicious humorous touches, and the latter being in its entirety a very clever conceit"—Boston Times. "A charming story."—Literary World. "A charming little story."—London AthenÆum. "Quaint and attractive in the extreme."—Philadelphia Call. "The Woman of the Saeter is weird and strange, and told with much art."—Outlook. "An exquisite love story ... like fine gold in its value."—Chicago Herald. "One of the sweetest, saddest stories we have ever read."—Chicago Times. "One of the best short stories that has appeared in some time."—Detroit Free Press. "A delightful story."—Hartford Post. "... The book will not be put down until all are finished."—Baltimore American. HENRY HOLT & CO., 29 West 23d Street, New York. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES —Plain print and punctuation errors fixed. —The transcriber of this project created the book cover image using the front cover of the original book. The image is placed in the public domain. |
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