  "Now that," quoth the Baron emphatically, as he deposed My Lady Rotha in favour of the next novelty, what ever it might be, "that is a romance after my own heart. Mr. Stanley Weyman, author of A Gentleman of France and Under the Red Robe, has not as yet, excellent as were both those works, written anything so powerful, so artistic, so exciting, and so all-engrossing (no further participles or adjectives wanted at present) as My Lady Rotha." This romancer has the rare talent of interesting his reader as much in the action of his crowds as he does in the fortunes of his individuals. He is the Sir John Gilbert of the pen; and the Baron cautiously expresses his opinion that My Lady Rotha is not so very far off Ivanhoe. To compare with the works of other modern romancers, it may be safely said that, from Chapter XXVI. to Chapter XXIX. inclusive, the situations are as exciting as any ever invented by Rider Haggard, Louis B. Stephenson, or Jules Verne; "which" the Baron freely admits, "is saying a good deal,—Treasure Island always excepted." The Baron anticipates "Next please," with pleasure, but at the same time he would draw the attention of the prolific author to the ancient proverb "festina lente," which is not at variance with his exclaiming "On! Stanley (Weyman) on!" and these are "the last words" (for the present on this subject) of the . |
|
