January was a very busy month in the hospital at Grote; the
accommodation had been increased, and now it comprised a hundred and
twenty beds. Early in the month a convoy had come with many very serious
cases among its numbers, and during the next fortnight there were three
deaths, the first that had yet occurred. Helen had waves of abject
misery over these; she could not help wondering if something more might
have been done to save the men, and Miss Hawker spoke to her, so she
thought, rather brutally on the subject, in connection with certain
supplies, which she had undertaken and forgotten to order, running
short.
“If the work is too heavy for you,” she had said, “you had better ask
for someone to help you. We can’t afford to have mistakes of that sort
happen. Supposing it had been some ether you had forgotten about, and we
had run short of anæsthetics?”
This was all quite well deserved, and Helen did not resent it.
“I know; I am very sorry,” she said. “But I have been worrying very much
and that made me forget. It shan’t happen again.”
“Yes; I saw that,” said Miss Hawker. “You were worrying over those men
who have slipped through our fingers. There’s nothing so useless as
that. You’ve got to do your best, and when you’ve done that, you mustn’t
let yourself get soft. You’ve got to think; it’s not your business to
feel, if your feeling does no good.”
Helen made a great effort with herself; it cost her the jettisoning of
all her pride to make the suggestion that she now offered.
“You must let me know if you think I’m not up to the work,” she said,
“and get someone else.”
Miss Hawker, who was already half-way to the door, paused a moment.
“And a pretty rebellion we should have in the wards,” she remarked. “And
have you heard from your son lately?”
“Yes, I heard this morning,” said Helen. “He’s very well.”
“So there is something left to be thankful for,” said Miss Hawker,
leaving the room.
Miss Hawker, Helen thought, was like some mental tonic, bitter and
rasping to the taste, but internally invigorating.... Then the pendulum
swung back again in the hospital, and a couple more cases that hung to
life by a mere thread, strengthened their hold, and passed out of
danger. Though it was not permissible to feel dejection when things went
badly, it was not only permissible but obligatory to be elated when
things went unexpectedly well, and while Robin was safe, and doctors
were satisfied with temperature charts, all that was of prime importance
in life, apart from the existence of the war at all, must be accepted
thankfully as outweighing the rest.
* * * * *
But as the days of January went on, there were events and tendencies
which, though they belonged to the class of secondary importance, were
intensely pleasing to her. By far the best of these was a certain change
that was taking place in her relations with her husband. For years their
intimate life had lain so far apart, that they were no more than ships
voyaging distantly at sea, and from time to time exchanging a perfectly
friendly signal with each other; but of late the interval between them
seemed to have sensibly diminished. It was as if Robin had both of them
singly in tow, and, in consequence, they were rapidly approaching each
other in his wake. His father, no less than she, had always been devoted
to the boy, and though, when Robin was secure at home or at Cambridge,
this tie failed to bring them together, now, when he was imperilled in
the trenches, the steady pull of their love for him resulted in their
drawing nearer to each other. To them both Robin’s safety, in their
personal life, took precedence of all other desires and aims; it formed
a living connection between them.
And as when from opposite sides of some southern pergola two sprays of
vine touch and are entangled, they put forth tendrils that grope for
each other, seeking interlacement, so between Helen and her husband now,
when once the contact was made, it was continually being strengthened by
sensitive feelers put forward shyly enough at first, which grew into
anchors and interlockings of living tissue. It was, for instance, a very
tentative touch, ready to be withdrawn, that made him suggest, a month
ago, that he should come down to Grote to spend a week-end there, if he
would not be a burden on her time and the arrangements of the hospital,
but after that his visits grew frequent.
* * * * *
January turned sleepily over in its winter’s sleep and became February,
who dreamed about spring. The moss was vividly green now below the
trees, and the sides of the path down to the river were white with
snowdrops. Her husband had been unable to get down for the next
week-end, but looked forward to an early visit, and for Helen the days
passed swiftly in the monotony of a routine that only varied in details.
The main end in view was always the same, namely, that the men should
move on from the hospital wards into the convalescent wards, and from
lying in the loggia should be promoted to the use of their own powers of
locomotion again.
No very serious fresh cases had been brought in, and in this mild
February air, soft and enervating to the hardy, but stimulating and
life-giving to the weak, there was a general all-round rise in the
well-being of the wards. Bad cases improved rapidly, slight cases got
well, and for the present there was no influx of the severely wounded.
She never could quite attain to the professional attitude of Miss
Hawker, who one day when a case of pneumonia, following on a slight
wound, exhibited very marked improvement, said, “The case presents no
further interest.” But she knew that somewhere, down below, there was no
tenderer heart than Miss Hawker’s. Her efficiency, as matron, was based
on her having it in control. Sometimes Helen wished that her own heart
was better drilled; sometimes she wanted to give it all the pangs of
which it was capable. Experience was dearly bought, if you had to pay
for it with even a superficial callousness. And then again she knew she
was wrong. She did not really want Mr. Brinton to grow dim-eyed--as
Aline would certainly have done--because an unconscious subject for his
skill must lose a leg. Emotion must never impede efficiency, as long as
there was anything practical to be done; you had to control such
emotions as pity and vague compassion. You could show your compassion
best by doing your work well.
There came a morning with a throb of excitement in it. Jaye was promoted
to the locomotive dignity of a bath-chair, to be pulled round the lawn
by an orderly, and was allowed a half-hour on the terrace. Helen, for
whom Jaye still “had a fancy,” accompanied this progress, and Jaye had
questions of weight to communicate. The one that really mattered was
whether it was reasonable of him to expect that his girl should feel for
him now what she undoubtedly felt before when he had two legs instead of
one. Apparently there was no question as to the sincerity of her
affection when the boy was still a biped. Helen had heard something of
that during his convalescence, and she knew that if she had been Jaye’s
girl, she would have married him--even at the early age of nineteen,
which was the case with both of them--before he had gone out to France.
But in the present circumstances, was it fair of Jaye to expect
constancy?
“It’s like this, sister,” he said. “If you arsk me if I would marry my
girl, she having lost a leg, and me not, well, I should say I must think
about it. I dessay I shouldn’t--I don’t see as you could blame me. Now,
here am I, same as what we supposed she was, and what am I to expect of
her?”
The orderly gave a suppressed giggle and said, “Gawd!”
“Don’t you be interrupting,” said Jaye, who was waxing fat like
Jeshurun, and would willingly kick with his one leg. “You don’t
understand nothing with your four arms and legs.”
Helen thought over rapidly what she knew of Jaye, for that was the first
part of the problem. She had thought him a simple quiet boy when he
first came, then a very nervous boy, when the time for his operation
approached, then an almost angelic boy, because he had wanted her to be
with him during it. (The want, it must be understood, was angelic, the
demand the most trying that had ever been made of her.) Since then, as
his convalescence restored him, he had ceased to be simple and quiet,
and had become a bumptious life and soul of the ward, who, Miss Hawker
said, should be sternly suppressed. And yet, all the time, in all his
phases, he was only being a boy....
That was only the first part of the problem: the second part was even
more vital to the correct solution, but it implied a knowledge of the
character of Jaye’s girl, and Helen at present had not the privilege of
her acquaintanceship.
“You must get your girl to come down and see you here, Jaye,” she said.
“I don’t know what she’s like. She may be so fond of you that she
doesn’t care a bit about your leg. She may not care two straws how many
legs you have. But I think I should give her a chance, if I were you,
instead of taking it for granted, quite straight off, that she can’t
care for you any more.”
Jaye was suddenly seized with diffidence.
“Gawd! Fancy me talking to a real lady about my girl and me!” he said.
“Seems cheek, doesn’t it?”
“Not a bit. We’ll have her down some afternoon,” said Helen. “Where does
she live?”
“Isle o’ Man,” said Jaye uncompromisingly. “She had a situation in
Hammersmith when we first met, and it was on a Bank Holiday it was, and
we fair clutched each other, first time of meeting, in one of them
hurly-go-rounds. Or was it a cock-shy at cocoanuts? I couldn’t say.”
And this was the quiet boy, reduced to apathy by pain and injury, now
blossoming out again into his ordinary self. How many identities, how
many characters, seemingly complete in themselves, she asked herself,
went to make up one quite ordinary human being? And did she not supply,
in herself, another case in point? So few months ago she had been the
engrossed pilot in extravagant and rudderless voyagings: now, anchored
in the same waters, she was equally engrossed in the not very promising
love-affairs of a one-legged boy, with whom she had nothing in common
except a bond of humanity, and the bond of the cause in which he had
suffered. So long as all was well with Robin, she could not better spend
priceless irrecoverable time than in participating in Jaye’s
love-affairs.
“Isle o’ Man,” repeated Jaye again. “Her mother drank herself to death,
and, like a good girl, she went back to see after her father. That was
before I had my little accident.”
Helen rapidly reviewed those premisses. There was really a great deal to
be said in defence of the girl if she decided to throw Jaye over. If she
had been just attracted by this brilliant half-back in League matches,
with his speed and his swiftness, and his certainty for some years to
come of a good income, it would be requiring a heroism on her part to
stick to a bargain which had lost its allurement. And yet you found
heroisms where you would never look for them: her going back to the Isle
of Man showed a capacity for devotion. Again, the real Jaye, something
she had found in him, independent of his right leg, might have drawn
her. Certainly, she must come down and see Jaye, but Helen wished that
her family did not live quite so far away. Or would it be better for
Jaye to go up there, when he had got his new leg and a facility in its
use....
She was debating this when she saw her husband approaching them across
the grass. He had not let her know that he was coming to-day, though she
had been expecting to hear from him, by any post, that he could get down
for a day and a night. The posts, too, were very irregular, he might
easily have written, and the letter not yet arrived. But even as this
went through her mind, and seemed all reasonable enough, she knew that
she was holding at arm’s length a fear that threatened to spring upon
her.
“We must talk about it again, Jaye,” she said, “for I must leave you
now, as I see Lord Grote is coming to look for me. But I like her for
having gone to the Isle of Man to see after her father.”
She left him with a smile and a nod, and struck on to the grass to meet
her husband.
“I did not expect you,” she said, as they came within speaking distance,
“but it is quite delightful to see you. Did you write or telegraph to
say that you were coming? I have not received anything.”
“No, my dear,” said he. “I didn’t write or telegraph. I--I just came.”
She faced him quite quietly, knowing already that she knew. There was no
tremor in her voice when she spoke.
“It’s about Robin, then,” she said. “Tell me: what about Robin?”
He took both her hands in his, and she spoke again:
“Robin has been killed,” she said.
“Yes, Helen,” said he.
They stood there looking at each other, with hands still clasped, and
the steadfast love which had illuminated the sky above her came swiftly
down the stairs of heaven and shone on them. And her lips smiled, and
the light of that love was in her eyes as she kissed him.
“Robin gave himself,” she said. “We have to give him, too.”
“Can you do that, Helen?” he asked. “I can’t.”
“We must learn to,” said she.
He was silent a moment.
“There are no details yet,” he said. “Just the bare news was sent me. I
thought I would tell you myself.”
“That was good of you,” she said. “I always dreaded a telegram, but I
didn’t dread you.”
For that moment they came together more closely than their love of Robin
had ever yet brought them.... More clearly than anything, more clearly
even than the memory of her last day with him, she remembered now, how
twenty years ago she stood with her husband here, and told him that she
was with child. And through the estrangements, the unfaithfulness, and
all the sequel of the marriage that had so soon been void of honour and
of love, there shone, as through rent mists, the gold of a gathered
harvest.
Together thus they walked back to the house. So short a time had elapsed
since she left Jaye’s bath-chair, that it had still not arrived at the
end of the terrace. The post had come in, and there was a pile of
letters for her in the hall. The topmost of them was unstamped and
addressed in pencil. “From Robin,” she said, and she took it up as she
would have taken up some sacred thing....
* * * * *
She was alone again that evening, for her husband had to get back to
town, sitting in the white room where she had seen the last of Robin,
and the inevitable reaction from that first splendid spring of her
spirit to accept what had happened, and not to grudge the gift he had
made of himself, came upon her like some wind that withers.
Robin was dead, and she knew now that it was his unconscious inspiration
entirely that had caused her to devote herself to the hospital which,
together with the thought of him, had filled her life for the last
months with the zest of unselfish and loving living. Apart from that,
the only other cause of her taking it up was her inability to divert
herself with her old amusements.
Now the light that had inspired her had gone, and her life here, which,
when the light shone on it had seemed so real and solid, was nothing
more than a shell of ash ready to crumble at a touch. Probably, for mere
decency’s sake, she would continue at her work, especially since she had
already proved her inability to amuse herself otherwise; but for the
future it would be but a filling of the hours that passed more quickly
if she was busy. She thought of the New Year’s party: she thought of
Jaye: she thought of the incessant works and rewards that filled her
day; but in this black flood of reaction that passed over her they
signified no more than a flock of dispersed dreams.
Long ago she had foreseen that Robin’s death would leave her with
nothing that was worth the trouble of living for, and her foresight was
fulfilled. But it had underestimated the quality of the loneliness, the
outer darkness of it. Perhaps she was vaguely, carelessly glad that she
had been of some use to Jaye, that she had comforted her husband to-day
with the high courage that had now utterly evaporated, leaving only the
black sediment of despair; but she was glad only with such a remembrance
as she might have had in having assisted a fly to escape from the web of
a spider. It was easy to help it: it meant nothing. For her it was
midnight with no star, nor any dawn to follow: a timeless, eternal
midnight. In the course of years the moment would come that she would
cease to be conscious of the midnight, and that was all she could look
forward to.
The darkness descended and closed round her. Perhaps she was wrong about
the nothingness from which she came, and the nothingness into which she
would go. Perhaps some ingenious artificer had designed all this, and
how must he laugh to see the hearts into which he had put the capability
of suffering, ache and rebel at his contrivances. Some day he would get
tired of his sport, and throw away the play-thing that had diverted the
tedium of eternity; but for the time it must amuse him to give his
puppets the power of loving, so that he might listen to their squealings
when he took away what he had encouraged them to love. No decent mother
would let her child get fond of a toy with the intention of taking it
away, but the artificer of the world laughed at the mother’s misplaced
compassion.
Suddenly Helen felt herself pulled up by a rein external to herself. She
was imagining things that her reason, at the least, was incapable of
believing. She had allowed herself to do that out of sheer bitterness of
heart; but it led to a conclusion that was unthinkable in its horror.
She shook herself free from what must be a dream, and woke again to the
lesser midnight of the nothingness from which she had come, and the
nothingness which before many years would softly close round her again.
* * * * *
It was here she had knelt, saying good-bye to Robin, wishing him “good
luck with his honour,” and here that he had said that he and she had
never loved each other so much as to-day. Then he had gone out of that
door without looking back, telling her that he would not do so. Step by
step, minute by minute, she went through again the hours he had spent
here then.
Up till the last moment they had said to each other nothing that
mattered; the day had been spent as if there had been a hundred other
such days to follow. And yet through the idle talk and the laughter and
the nonsense had come to him, even as to her, the clear knowledge that
they had never loved each other so much. Then he had gone out of the
door without looking back, and she, blind fool, had let him go. Why had
she not gone up with him to London, and had a few more hours of him? She
would gladly give all that remained to her now if he would only stand
for one second by the door again, and look back at her, a little
dim-eyed, and with mouth that quivered, so that she could see him once
more with her mortal eyes, and hear him speak to her just one word. A
minute of the world that once held Robin was surely worth more than
anything in the world which held him no longer....
It was a surprise to herself when, without warning, the sobs gathered in
her throat, and she gave herself up to an abandonment of desperate
tears. Not since she had known that Robin was dead had she even wanted
to cry. While Grote was with her, all she had desired was to give him of
her courage, and when he had gone, the fatigue of that braced effort or
the withdrawal from it of the love that had wanted it, had caused the
reaction which denied all that she had held on to then, and all that had
previously inspired her. But now she had none for whom she must be
strong, and her heart was sick with its own bitterness.
She had tried everything: she had been eager for her own happiness, and
had failed; she had been busy for others; she had been brave for
others; she had been bitter, and she had loved. Now, watering her
desolation, and her bitterness and her love alike, came her tears. Like
a moving thunder-shower they passed over her own desolation, her own
bitterness, her own bravery, but over the field where her love rose in
springing crop, like the blades of winter wheat, they lingered and
poured themselves out, salt no longer, but with an amazing sweetness.
She had no self-pity left in her, no compassion for her own sorrow:
these would have made a saltness in her weeping, but none was there. She
wept at first for the sorrow of her bereaved love, the natural salt
tears; but what was it that made the sweetness, if it was not the joy of
finding that love was still alive?
All her life she had been a friend to love. She had made friends too
easily, but among all those tremulous times was there ever an occasion
when her love had been quite alone, awaking no response of some kind?
There had always been two in order to enable love to exist. They might
differ in their kinds, there might be passive love, content to receive,
active love content to give, low love content to get, high love
content-- ... content to be. But wherever love existed at all, there
were two concerned in it. One might even reject, disdain, make mock, but
he must be there. He might refuse to put his signature which made the
contract valid, but the space for his signing must be there: the
contract, though it should never come into effect, must have a space for
two names. Otherwise, it could never have been drawn up.
Her thoughts swarmed to these conclusions, and before she knew that she
had spoken, she heard her voice say “Robin.”
It was not to the memory of him that she had spoken when she said that.
She had thought over the blessed days, and, in especial, the last
thrice-blessed day of all, and she had said good-bye to them, for they
were over. Gaze as she might at that door, never would Robin be outlined
against it, as he left her without turning his head; on the arm of the
chair where he had sat, never again could she feel his warm, smooth
fingers grasping hers, as she wished him the good luck of his honour.
But she had not spoken to the memories of what was irrecoverable: she
had spoken to someone who remembered, even as she remembered, who loved
even as she loved. She had not spoken to the past: she had spoken to the
present, giving him the contract for him to sign yet once more. And if,
with mortal eye, she had seen him by the door, turning back, though he
had said he would not, to smile at her again, she would not have thought
it strange. Nor would she have thought it to be a wraith, a phantom
projected from her own longing to see him. It would have been just
Robin; very likely he would have a smile and a ridiculous joke about
Miss Diphtheria for her. Why not? Must he lose his human characteristics
because a chance shell discharged not with regard to him had stiffened
and stifled him? What had that shell to _do_ with Robin? How could it
conceivably lessen the might of love, or put love among the things that
had been and were no longer?
Something dearly-loved, his laughing eyes, his mouth, his knee which she
had kissed and covered up, the body of him that was born of her body,
his blood and his bone, blood of her blood, and bone of her bone, were
somewhere buried in France, shattered and torn to fragments, or perhaps
pierced by some little pencil-mark of a wound that had left him fallen
backwards where a moment before he had stood eager and alert. She hoped
it had been like that, for she loved his beauty, and shrank from
thinking of its violent disfigurement. Some day, perhaps, she would know
how the supreme moment came to him; but it was no vital part of him that
was concerned in that. That was secondary compared with something else
that grew out of the darkness and glowed before her.
All this last month, after he had gone to France, she had felt his
presence with her, and had told herself that it was their love, the
reallest thing she knew, which had given her that certainty. That
certainty was with her still, and it arose from no memory of their love,
but from the love itself, which existed now. There were two to that
contract still, Robin and herself.
* * * * *
There began to be a stir of movement in the quiet house, and she started
up, wondering if some emergency had arisen for which her help might be
needed.... Then she saw that there was light coming through her
curtains, and, looking out, knew that the late winter dawn was beginning
to break....
* * * * *
She had to be up early that morning, for she had some arrears of work to
do, left over from yesterday, and it did not seem worth while to go to
bed for an hour. Presently there came a tap at the door from her
bedroom, and Simpson looked in, her old face puckered and puzzled to
find her sitting there.
“Eh, Miss Helen,” she said, “and you’ve not been to bed all night!
You’ve been sitting up and grieving----”
And then Simpson could not go on.
Helen got up and kissed her.
“Yes, darling old Sim,” she said, “I’ve been grieving. And then I
think--I think I’ve been rejoicing. I’ve found Robin again, Sim.”
Presently Simpson spoke again.
“And you’ll go to bed now, dear, won’t you?” she said. “You’ll take a
rest to-day.”
“No, indeed, I won’t. But I’ll take my cup of tea if you will bring it
in here. And then will you make me a hot bath? Really hot, Sim, so that
I scream when I move.”
Simpson patted and stroked her hand a moment longer, smiling through her
tears. “You were always one for a bath fit to boil you, Miss Helen,” she
said.
* * * * *
It had rained in the night, and the lawn shone with the moisture as the
sun rose. In the sky was “the bright shining after rain.”
THE END
_Printed at The Chapel River Press, Kingston, Surrey._
* * * * *
Messrs. Hutchinson & Co.
are pleased to give the following particulars of =many important New
Books for the Autumn of 1919=, and also =a splendid list of New Novels=,
which, as will be seen by the undermentioned names, are almost all by
the =Leading Authors=.
W. B. MAXWELL
ETHEL M. DELL
STEPHEN McKENNA
E. F. BENSON
KATHLYN RHODES
H. de VERE STACPOOLE
JEROME K. JEROME
GILBERT FRANKAU
BARONESS VON HUTTEN
MRS. ALFRED SIDGWICK
RAFAEL SABATINI
UNA L. SILBERRAD
UPTON SINCLAIR
ELINOR MORDAUNT
PIERRE BENOIT
G. B. BURGIN
KEBLE HOWARD
PEGGY WEBLING
DOROTA FLATAU
ISABEL C. CLARKE
H. B. SOMERVILLE
H. PROTHERO LEWIS
M. P. WILLCOCKS
CURTIS YORKE
CECILIA HILL
AUTHOR OF “THE POINTING MAN.”
MARIAN M. BOWER
LEON M. LION and
MRS. HORACE TREMLETT
* * * * *
_Hutchinson’s New Novels, 6/9 Net._
A Man and his Lesson
By W. B. MAXWELL
Author of “The Devil’s Garden,” etc.
“All Life is a Lesson” is the sub-title of this story, and the hero,
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time. He passes through various phases of social experiences and of
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The book is full of up-to-date scenes and various backgrounds, but the
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The Rubber Princess
By G. B. BURGIN
Author of “A Gentle Despot,” etc.
A new novel in Mr. Burgin’s most delightful style, happy, optimistic,
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Green Pastures
By UNA L. SILBERRAD
Author of “The Mystery of Barnard Hanson,” “The Lyndwood Affair.”
A novel which breathes an atmosphere of chivalry and courtesy and
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A novel which is bound to bring the author many new admirers.
The Sleeping Partner
By M. P. WILLCOCKS
Author of “The Eyes of the Blind,” “Change,” etc.
Both in scene and atmosphere, an entirely new departure of Miss
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Sonia Married
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The best novel Mr. McKenna has written.
Robin Linnet
By E. F. BENSON
Author of “Up and Down,” “Dodo,” etc.
A story with all the charm of style, witty dialogue and able
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As God Made Her
By HELEN PROTHERO LEWIS
Author of “Love and the Whirlwind,” etc.
Rachel Higgins receives a legacy. Her method of spending it is most
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scene interests and amuses. A good story in the best sense of the word.
Bait
By DOROTA FLATAU
Author of “Yellow English” (11th edition).
An uncommon story by the author of last year’s great success. Dimpsey
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smart set is the theme of a thoroughly smart novel replete with witty
epigrams and catchy sayings. A distinctive book.
The Peculiar Major
By KEBLE HOWARD
Author of “The Smiths of Surbiton,” etc.
Asked how he came to write a novel so far away from his usual line as
“The Peculiar Major,” Mr. Keble Howard replied:
“I didn’t write it. The Major wrote it, and he didn’t so much write it
as set down in the form of a story the amazing things that happened to
him. How could he help it? The Great War, a world in agony, a crowned
villain, an astounding discovery, London, love, laughter--why anybody
could knock up a yarn with such ingredients as those!
“As for my share, I just put in a comma or two, and got my friend, Mr.
H. G. Wells, to give the enterprise his blessing.”
The Man’s Story
By H. B. SOMERVILLE
Author of “Ashes of Vengeance,” “The Mark of Vraye,” etc.
A fascinating story by this well-known author with an interest which
grows as the pages are turned. “The Man” and his wife, Le Sars and the
actress, the characters who act and react on one another are drawn with
a fidelity and a knowledge which make the story vivid. A novel that will
appeal to all, especially to feminine readers.
Happy House
By BARONESS VON HUTTEN
Author of “Sharrow” (48th Thousand), etc.
“Happy House” in Hampstead is a delightful sunny place in a garden, and
the scene of a story full of dramatic incident.
Old Mrs. Mellish, the chief character of the book, is a vivid creation,
the utter unexpectedness of her final action is the distinctive feature
of this new novel by a well-known writer.
The Beach of Dreams
By H. de VERE STACPOOLE
Author of “The Blue Lagoon,” “The Pearl Fishers,” etc.
Mr. Stacpoole has no rivals in his own particular field, and “The Beach
of Dreams” will certainly increase his popularity. It rivals in interest
his famous stories, “The Blue Lagoon,” and “The Pearl Fishers,” and may
be said to show even greater power and psychological insight. His
descriptive writing is as vivid as ever; we hear the roar of the
“Wooley” and of the breakers on the cliffs of Kerguelen, we see Cléo de
Bronsart and Raft huddled together on a ledge, with the hungry waves
below and the mighty cliffs above, and we thrill to Raft’s fight with
Chang and Cléo’s intervention, which turns the day. A most exciting
story with a great surprise at the end.
Konigsmark
By PIERRE BENOIT
The publishers believe that they can congratulate both the public and
themselves on the appearance of this most remarkable novel, which has
already taken France by storm. At heart the reading public still demand
a good plot, and the plot of Konigsmark will be readily recognized as
the work of genius. But the novel is far more than a most enthralling
story. It introduces characters which, for truth and personality, stand
out in a different class from the usual puppets of fiction, and, above
all, the book is distinguished by that human touch, that all-pervading
sense of humour and charm of style which cannot fail to make a deep and
lasting impression.
Julian
By ISABEL C. CLARKE
Author of “The Children of Eve,” “The Elstones,” etc.
A new novel by the author of “The Elstones” and one written with all the
power and insight displayed in that story. The heroine, Eunice Dampier,
has a strange and eventful career; the development of her character
under the care of the Parmeters is sketched with an able pen. Eunice is
a real person with human faults and failings, as well as human charm and
attraction.
The Further Side of the Door
By the author of “The Pointing Man”
The peculiar charm and ability to create an atmosphere of mystery which
mark the author of “The Pointing Man” are very evident in this new
novel. It is a well woven tale of uncommon distinction and quality.
Richard Ansell’s story is one that may be the fate of many a man in
these days. A story full of appeal and with a delightful current of
romance.
Odds and Ends
By B. M. CROKER
Author of “Blue China,” etc.
Mrs. Croker’s signature is a hall-mark of excellence of workmanship, and
that excellence is maintained in this delightful collection of her
stories, some grave, some gay, and all showing the master hand.
The reader will be delighted with the variety of subject and mood and
the finish of style. While the majority of the scenes are laid in her
beloved Ireland, India furnishes the background for some of the most
amusing as well as tragic incidents. A book that every admirer of Mrs.
Croker will welcome with enthusiasm.
The Chinese Puzzle
By MARIAN BOWER and LEON M. LION
The Novel of the famous Play
This remarkable story will make as strong an appeal in novel form as it
has done as a play.
There is tension throughout and clever characterization. All the persons
in the tale are as vivid as on the stage, and the style is
distinguished.
The Level Track
By CURTIS YORKE
Author of “Disentangled,” “Joyce,” “She Who Meant Well,” etc.
The Romance of Prudence Royton, who, from a humdrum, Cinderella-like
existence, is suddenly thrown into the conflicting currents of wealth
and matrimony. The story is characteristic of Curtis Yorke in its
direct, vivid and arresting style, and will be one more favourite added
to the long list of this popular writer’s popular books.
FIRST EDITION OF 60,000 COPIES
The Lamp in the Desert
By ETHEL M. DELL
Author of “The Hundredth Chance,” “The Bars of Iron,” etc.
A new novel by this most popular author is always an event. The scene of
this powerful story is laid in the Indian hill country, and the story is
replete with incident and remarkable characterisation. Stella Denzil and
her lover will take their places in the gallery of favourites which Miss
Dell has given her admirers.
My Trifling Adventures
By MRS. ALFRED SIDGWICK
Author of “The Inner Shrine,” “Anne Lulworth,” etc.
The innumerable admirers of this favourite novelist will welcome with
delight the latest novel from her pen. Mrs. Sidgwick has a descriptive
charm and a power of visualisation which never fail. She has brought all
her powers to bear on this story of a young girl in strange and not
altogether pleasant surroundings; it is written with humour and a deep
understanding of human nature which will appeal to all who like to read
about Life as it really is.
Jimmy Higgins
By UPTON SINCLAIR
Author of “The Jungle,” etc.
This is the story of Jimmy Higgins, socialist, worker and sometime
soldier in the American Expeditionary Forces. It is a character study
written with all Upton Sinclair’s power and virility. The pictures he
paints are drawn with a sweeping brush and in crude colours that make
the lights and shadows distinct and impressive. “Jimmy Higgins” is a
story that is sure to arouse great interest among the reading public all
over the world. It is strong with the strength of the untamed spirit.
Platonic Peter
By MRS. HORACE TREMLETT
Author of “Giddy Mrs. Goodyer,” “Birds of a Feather,” etc.
Judy Bettington was the Mayoress of Midboro’, a dazzling beauty in a
Paris hat. How she adopted Peter Barham as a friend, whether he was
really so platonic as he should have been, and what Thomas the Mayor had
to say about it, is all told in the particularly entertaining,
light-hearted style which Mrs. Tremlett has made quite her own. A most
exhilarating story, with a smile on every page.
The Scent Shop
By PEGGY WEBLING
Author of “In Our Street,” etc.
In her ninth and latest novel Miss Webling tells a quaint story of
London life. She uses her knowledge of the little-known forms of fine
labour, in this case the old and exquisite art of scent-making, to form
a picturesque background for a delightful romance. The characters are
all entertaining, and are described in the author’s most attractive
manner.
Peter Jackson, Cigar Merchant
By GILBERT FRANKAU
Author of “One of Them,” etc.
A romance of married life, a romance which resembles the life of many a
couple. Strong and frank, a remarkable novel, is the opinion of a
balanced reader. It is a story which will especially appeal to all who
have passed the first bloom of married life and see how Peter and his
wife found themselves and each other. A novel that will have a lasting
success.
Stone Walls
By CECILIA HILL
Author of “The Citadel,” “Wings Triumphant.”
A novel that should enlarge this author’s circle of readers. Both style
and treatment bear out the promises made in the former books. The
heroine Petra is drawn with the same “sure touch of affection and
experience” (to quote the _Times_ critic on the author’s last novel),
which characterizes the work of this clever writer.
Nearly a Million of this Favourite Author’s Novels have been already
sold.
The City of Palms
By KATHLYN RHODES
Author of “The Lure of the Desert,” “The Desert Dreamers,” etc.
The action of the story passes in an oasis in the desert of Northern
Africa, known to the Arabs as “The City of Palms.” The chief characters
are a young Englishman, who has settled down in the oasis, his young
wife, and a man of hybrid nationality, half Pole, half Turk, whose
ill-will the English girl is unfortunate enough to incur. The threads of
these three lives become entangled, and the story is concerned chiefly
with the intrigue set in motion by the Turk, in which the Englishman
runs the risk of losing both wife and land.
A Villa in the South
By DUNCAN SWAN
Author of “Molyneux of Mayfair,” “A Country House Comedy,” etc.
A delightfully entertaining book full of movement and telling the story
of charming and likeable people. A novel written in Mr. Swan’s most
attractive style, with the Villa Beauregarde as a fascinating background
for an amusing society comedy.
Mr. Swan’s talent is well-known to all lovers of good literature; this
novel is written with a lightness of touch and charm of style which are
certain to enhance his reputation.
The Little Soul
By ELINOR MORDAUNT
Author of “The Garden of Contentment,” “A Ship of Solace,” etc.
Another novel that will delight all admirers of Miss Mordaunt’s great
gifts. Charles Hoyland is a remarkable character, drawn with great power
and force. Philip McCabe and Diana Clayton, the foils to this driving
power, are most charming and attractive people, whose careers will be
followed with intense interest. The story ends on the note of hope,
never absent from any picture of real life.
The Historical Nights’ Entertainment Series I.
By RAFAEL SABATINI
Author of “The Snare,” “The Banner of the Bull,” etc.
In speaking of this series, Mr. Sabatini says, “I have set myself the
task of reconstructing in the fullest possible detail and with all the
colour available from surviving records a group of more or less famous
events. I have selected for my purpose those which were in themselves
bizarre and resulting from the interplay of human passions, and whilst
relating each of these events in the form of a story, I compel that
story scrupulously to follow the recorded facts and draw on my
imagination merely, as one might, to fill in the outlines which history
leaves grey.”
The Historical Nights’ Entertainment Series II.
By RAFAEL SABATINI
Author of “The Snare,” “The Banner of the Bull,” etc.
“I have tried to reconstruct, in the fullest possible details, the most
bizarre and famous events which have resulted from the interplay of
human passions in history. How nearly I have approached success in this
task--how far I have fallen short--my readers will discern.” R. S.
All Roads Lead to Calvary
By JEROME K. JEROME
Author of “Paul Kelver,” “Two Men in a Boat,” etc.
“Her face has always been a woman’s fortune. If she’s going to become a
fighter, it will have to be her weapon,” Joan Allway finds this a truth
though at times a bitter one, for she determines to fight for the right
as she sees it, against the forces which strive to make life easy. Joan
meets life with a high courage which nothing is able to damp, but the
solution of her problems must be found in the pages of Mr. Jerome’s
fascinating novel.
_IMPORTANT FORTHCOMING BOOKS_
The Dover Patrol--1915, 1916 & 1917
By Admiral SIR REGINALD BACON,
K.C.B., K.C.V.O., D.S.O
_With over one hundred illustrations, maps and plans._
2 _handsome volumes_, =34s.= _net._
The history of the Dover Patrol is one of the outstanding romances of
the war, and Admiral Sir Reginald Bacon’s forthcoming book sheds new
light on the varied operations of the naval forces which he commanded
for nearly three years.
The occupation and fortification of the Belgian coast by the enemy,
changed dramatically the strategical situation, throwing upon the Dover
Patrol heavier responsibilities than Nelson, or any admiral who
commanded these narrow waters in previous wars, had had to bear. The
enemy was in a position to threaten the left flank of the Allied armies
besides menacing the enormous volume of sea traffic passing through the
straits. The Dover Patrol consequently had to deny the use of these
waters to the Germans, established on the Belgian Coast, while at the
same time, rendering them safe for British shipping, and above all that,
it had to protect the left flank of the Allied armies and safeguard the
stream of storeships and transports passing across the Channel within
seventy miles of the fortified bases of the enemy.
Sir Reginald Bacon in this important book, which is very fully
illustrated with charts and photographs, gives a detailed account of the
work of the Dover Patrol, with its ships manned, not only by the Navy,
but drawing their personnel from all classes and composed of monitors,
destroyers, submarines, drifters, trawlers, mine sweepers, motor boats
and motor launches. He describes the ceaseless watch and ward,
maintained for so long off the Belgian coast which was patrolled daily
within sight of Ostend and Zeebrugge; a feat unparalleled in the war for
hardihood and daring in view of the danger from mines and submarines.
The methods whereby this work was accomplished and the precautions taken
against loss form an interesting portion of the narrative. Admiral Bacon
also gives some account of the landing of heavy guns at Dunkirk--great
engineering achievements--and of the many bombardments carried out on
the enemy’s positions from the sea.
The book will be regarded as the crowning vindication of the naval
aptitudes of the British people, for the Dover Patrol was in the main an
improvised force created to meet a great national peril.
If the Germans had dominated the Straits of Dover in the early months of
the war, who could then have prophesied that the Allies would have
triumphed?
* * * * *
_IMPORTANT FORTHCOMING BOOKS_
Westminster Cathedral and Its Architect
By W. DE L’HOPITAL
With numerous Illustrations from Mr. Bentley’s drawings including
coloured plates, plans and reproductions from photographs.
_In 2 large handsome volumes, Crown 4-to, cloth gilt and gilt top_, =£3
3s. 0d.= _net._
The history of Westminster Cathedral, and of its architect, the late
John Francis Bentley, will undoubtedly form one of the principal
publishing features of the autumn season. Westminster Cathedral is
acknowledged to be among the most important buildings of modern times,
and as the Chief Cathedral of the Roman Catholic Church in the British
Empire it has a further importance of the first mark. Bentley’s own
life, and the story of how the great Byzantine cathedral grew into being
from Cardinal Manning’s first proposals, and how it fell to his
successor, Cardinal Vaughan, to initiate and carry out the work, has
been told by the architect’s daughter, Mrs. de l’Hopital, who has made
full use of her father’s papers. An important feature of the book is the
illustrations, which comprise some full page plates in colour from Mr.
Bentley’s watercolour drawings, and numerous illustrations in line and
from photographs, besides many plans.
The Madman
By KAHLIL GIBRAN
“The William Blake of the Twentieth Century.”--_Rodin._
_With three illustrations_, =5s.= _net._
“THE MADMAN” introduces to England the work of the greatest poet of
Arabia. The man of whom the great Rodin said “The world should expect
much from this poet painter of Lebanon. He is the William Blake of the
Twentieth Century.”
Kahlil Gibran is as much the poet of the Near East as Tagore is of the
East. In the opinion of many critics he is a far greater poet than
Tagore. Among the millions who read Arabic, Gibran--poet, painter,
dramatist and critic--is considered the outstanding genius of the epoch.
41st Year of Issue.
The Year’s Art, 1920
Compiled by A. C. R. CARTER
A concise epitome of all matters relating to the Arts of Painting,
Sculpture, Engraving, and Architecture, and to Schools of Design, which
have occurred during the year 1919, together with information respecting
the events of 1920.
Over 600 pages with illustrations
_Crown 8vo, cloth_, =7s. 6d.= _net._
* * * * *
_IMPORTANT FORTHCOMING BOOKS_
The Peace Conference
By Dr. E. J. DILLON
Author of “The Eclipse of Russia” etc.
_In one large handsome volume_, =21s.= _net._
Dr. Dillon has been for so many years in the closest touch with the
inmost circles of European politics that his opportunities for
collecting material for the work which bears this comprehensive title
have been unrivalled. His two large volumes cover all the essential
points of the vast conference and form a work which should be a
permanent history of the events of these world shaking months. Dr.
Dillon gives personal impressions of the leading delegates with special
reference to their individual fitness to conduct their parts in the
negotiation for a world peace settlement. He gives a vast amount of
hitherto unpublished information on the growth and development of the
causes of dissension among the Associated Powers and the methods taken
to arrange a settlement of these. He deals with the sincerity of the
various national delegations in discussing the terms of a peace on an
ideal basis as distinct from a peace on the old bases where national
claims were paramount. He has much of supreme interest to say about the
Italian situation, and the claims of America as regards the Monroe
doctrine and as regards her German-American population. He discusses the
probability of the permanence of the League of Nations, and touches with
deft certainty on the indications and possibilities of the Japanese and
Chinese questions. A most valuable and interesting part of the book is
the discussion of the “Fourteen” points as a basis for Peace, and their
effect on the imperfectly developed and the undeveloped races and an
examination of them from the politico-religious point of view. Other
interesting chapters deal with the sources of information of which Dr.
Dillon was able to make use, and the reception accorded this special
information by the high parties in Paris. Dr. Dillon also has much of
surpassing interest to tell of the inner history of the Peace Conference
and the influences which affected the speed and trend of the settlement.
It does not seem too much to claim that this work is unique in its
source and in the variety of reliable information which is gathered into
its covers. It should be studied by every thinking reader who wishes to
know what really happened at Paris during those fateful months when the
peace of the world was being settled, we hope for all time.
Memories of an Old Etonian--1860-1912
By GEORGE GREVILLE
Author of “Society Recollections in Paris and Vienna,” and “More Society
Recollections.”
_In demy 8vo, cloth gilt_, =16s. _net_=
With numerous Illustrations
In this fascinating volume the author has chiefly related his
recollections of Eton fifty years ago--the Eton of Dr. Hornby, and has
added yet another volume to the chronicles of the great school.
It is not easy to describe the varied contents of this book; it
suffices, however, to say that it contains much besides these early
reminiscences. Mr. Greville supplies the reader from his apparently
inexhaustible memories with abundant anecdotes and society sketches
during the latter half of Queen Victoria’s reign.
My Chinese Days
By GULIELMA F. ALSOP
_With 8 Illustrations on art paper in one handsome volume_, =10s. 6d.=
_net._
With its background of Oriental colours, customs and mystery this is a
fascinating volume of vignettes of Chinese life by a woman physician.
The author obtained the material for her sketches either from her own
observations during her four years’ work as a practising physician or
she heard of them direct. She gives intimate pictures of the domestic
life of the Chinese of all classes, and tells of her many romantic,
tragic and humorous experiences.
Fields of Victory
By MRS. HUMPHRY WARD
_In crown 8vo, with illustrations, coloured map and large folding
statistical chart_, =7s. 6d.= _net._
This is a book of paramount importance and of topical interest. It is a
survey of the British Armies in the field and of Britain’s part in the
future Peace of the World. The author has visited the scenes of the
great conflict, and gives us from the Fields of Victory and from
personal contact with the leading persons in the great drama, and
prominent British and Allied representatives, who have put all available
material and information at her disposal, an abiding and inspiring
picture of Great Britain’s achievements in the past and of her aims and
ideals for the future.
Gardens of Celebrities and Celebrated Gardens
25s. net. By JESSIE MACGREGOR
_In one large handsome volume,_ _=with 20 beautiful coloured plates and
exquisite pencil drawings by the Author=_
A book that is likely to become a classic. The beautiful Water Colour
paintings and delicate pencil drawings of some of the most famous
Gardens in and around London, add greatly to the interest of the
letter-press. Special permission was granted by Queen Alexandra to Miss
Macgregor to make sketches in the precincts of Marlborough House. Miss
Macgregor, who was a favourite pupil of Sir Frederick Leighton, has been
a regular Exhibitor at the Royal Academy. The text gives a most
exhaustive survey of London Gardens and their History, from the days of
the Norman Conquest. Both by those who know and love their London and by
many Americans and overseas Britons this unique book, with its
fascinating accounts of Hogarth House, Walpole House, the Chelsea
Physicke Garden, and many other historical backgrounds will be read with
unfailing delight.
The book is a veritable treasure house of Garden Lore.
Sappho: A Rendering and an Authority
By H. DE VERE STACPOOLE
_Half cloth gilt_, =3s. 6d.= _net._
In this delightful volume Mr. Stacpoole has used all the charm of
language which marks him as a descriptive writer of such high order. The
music of his diction rings in every line of this translation, which is
vibrant with the spirit of the original.
The Ruined Cities of Northern Africa
By RAGNAR STURZENBECKER
With about 60 illustrations from photographs printed on art paper.
_Demy 8vo, cloth gilt_, =16s.= _net._
Dr. Sturzenbecker’s name is well known throughout Europe as one of the
leading authorities on the ancient civilizations of North Africa, which
he describes. The excavations have, on the whole, yielded greater
treasures than Pompeii and Herculaneum, for they have concerned towns of
great size and importance which for centuries have lain hidden under
their sandy covering.
Two New Volumes of HUTCHINSON’S NATURE LIBRARY.
A new series of books on Natural History and other kindred subjects,
written by experts in popular language, but with strict accuracy in
every detail.
_Each volume in large crown 8vo, handsome cloth gilt_, =7s. 6d.= _net,
fully illustrated_
Bird Behaviour
By FRANK FINN, F.Z.S.
Author of “Birds of the Countryside,” etc.
_With 44 illustrations, on art paper._
Mr. Frank Finn is well known as one of our chief authorities on all that
concerns bird-life. Those who are familiar with his books are aware that
he has made it a practice only to write from personal observation. “Bird
Behaviour,” the subject of his new book, has never before received
serious attention, but it is one in which Mr. Finn is thoroughly at
home. Some of the points treated in the volume relate to the locomotion
of birds, their nutrition and the reasons for their choice of particular
foods--the care of the young, nests, migration, senses of smell and
sight.
Insect Artisans and their Work
By EDWARD STEP, F.L.S.
Author of “Messmates,” “Toadstools and Mushrooms of the Countryside,”
etc.
_With 54 illustrations, on art paper._
From quite early days in the study of Entomology it has been generally
known that certain Insects in the perfection of their industry might
almost be accepted as the prototypes of the human artificer. Thus, the
wasp was taken as the first paper-maker, a certain wild bee as a mason,
and another bee as a carpenter.
* * * * *
_OTHER VOLUMES ALREADY ISSUED_
Messmates: A Book of Strange Companionships
By EDWARD STEP, F.L.S.
Author of “The Romance of Wild Flowers,” “Shell Life,” etc.
With 55 Illustrations from photographs, on art paper
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
The Infancy of Animals 2nd Edition
With 64 plates on art paper and numerous illustrations in the text
The Courtship of Animals
By W. P. PYCRAFT, A.L.S., F.Z.S.
Zoological Department, British Museum.
Author of “A History of Birds,” “Story of Reptile Life,” etc.
With numerous illustrations on art paper _RECENT SUCCESSFUL BOOKS_
In the Morning of Time
By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
Author of “Red Fox,” etc.
_With nine illustrations. In crown 8vo, cloth_, =7s. 6d.= _net._
The stories of this author dealing with the adventures of animals, of
which “The Red Fox” is, perhaps, the best known, have for a long time
enjoyed great popularity. In the present work, Mr. Roberts gives us a
story of a man in primæval times, and he introduces descriptions of the
strange scenery and monstrous fauna of the time.
Indo-China and its Primitive People
By CAPTAIN HENRY BAUDESSON
With 60 illustrations from photographs by the Author.
_In demy 8vo, cloth gilt_, =16s.= _net._
In the course of his travels Captain Baudesson carefully observed the
curious customs of the Moï and Chams, the uncultured people of
Indo-China, among whom he dwelt for many years. The story of his travels
is presented in vivid language and is full of local and picturesque
colour. Tigers and elephants were frequently encountered during the
journey of the mission, and many members of the expedition were wounded
by the poisoned arrows of the natives, while jungle fever and malaria
made havoc among them.
Old Days in Bohemian London
Recollections of Clement Scott
By MRS. CLEMENT SCOTT
_In demy 8vo. cloth gilt, with 16 illustrations_, =10s. 6d.= _net._
These recollections are something more than memoirs of one who probably
knew his Bohemian London better than any living contemporary. Mr.
Clement Scott was for many years Dramatic Critic to “The Daily
Telegraph,” and in this remarkable book one finds references to and
anecdotes, hitherto unpublished, of most of the notabilities both
Protean and those who have trodden the bigger stage of Life during the
past twenty-five years.
Secrets of the Bosphorus 2nd Edition
Revealed by Ambassador MORGENTHAU
CONSTANTINOPLE 1913-1916
_With 19 Illustrations on art paper._
_Published at the popular price of_ =8s. 6d.= _net._
It is impossible to overrate the importance of this book. It contains
amazing revelations concerning many obscure phases of the world-war. A
book that holds its place and continues to be in great demand.
The Game of Diplomacy 2nd Edition
By a EUROPEAN DIPLOMAT
With unique portraits of Illustrious Personages
_In demy 8vo, cloth gilt_, =10s. 6d.= _net._
Baron de Schelking, the author, was First Secretary at the Russian
Embassy in Berlin for a number of years. His memoirs will rank as a
historical document of the first importance.
Indian Studies 2nd Edition
By GENERAL SIR O’MOORE CREAGH,
V.C., G.C.B., G.C.S.I.
Former Commander-in-Chief in India
_In demy 8vo, cloth gilt_, =16s.= _net._
A brilliant and exhaustive survey of India.
The fruit of forty years’ experience in India by a former
Commander-in-Chief.
One of Them: A Novel in Verse
By GILBERT FRANKAU
_In Cr. 8vo, with coloured Wrapper_, =6s. 9d.= _net._
God and Tommy Atkins 4th Edition
By Dr. ALEXANDER IRVINE
Author of “My Lady of the Chimney Corner,” etc.
=3s. 6d. _net._=
Recent Successful Novels.
_Each in cr. 8vo., cloth, 6s. 9d. net._
THE ROLL CALL By Arnold Bennett
2nd Edition
THE GREAT INTERRUPTION W. B. Maxwell
2nd Edition
UNDER BLUE SKIES H. de Vere Stacpoole
2nd Edition
BLUE CHINA B. M. Croker
2nd Edition
THE OBSTINATE LADY W. E. Norris
2nd Edition
WILD YOUTH Sir Gilbert Parker
LOOSE ENDS Arnold Lunn
A GENTLE DESPOT G. B. Burgin
THE ELSTONES Isabel C. Clarke
2nd Edition
AGAINST THE WINDS Kate Jordan
THE BLOND BEAST Robert A. Bennet
PAUL’S WIFE Douglas Sladen
BIRDS OF A FEATHER Mrs. Horace Tremlett
LOVE AND THE CRESCENT Mrs. A. C. Inchbold
AN ENGLISH FAMILY Harold Begbie
3rd Edition
3/6 Net Series
OF
FAMOUS NOVELS
_Each in crown 8vo, printed on good paper, cloth bound with most
attractive picture wrapper in colours._
NEW EDITIONS OF
Ethel M. Dell’s Great Novels
The Hundredth Chance
Now published for the first time in cheap form
The Bars of Iron
(222nd Thousand)
The Story of an African Farm
By OLIVE SCHREINER
A Classic which has delighted Hundreds of Thousands of readers and will
prove as acceptable to millions more. Olive Schreiner’s masterpiece is
ever new, ever interesting. It is the acknowledged classic of South
Africa. One of the greatest novels ever written.
Queen of the Rushes
By ALLEN RAINE
Over Two Million copies of this famous author’s books have already been
sold. “Allen Raine” is the hall mark of all that is pure and wholesome
in literature. This novel deals with her beloved Wales, of which she is
at once the prophet and novelist.
The Relentless Desert
By KATHLYN RHODES
A novel of thrilling interest and intrigue by one of the most popular of
modern novelists whose books are always in great demand. A worthy
edition of a book which will have a widely extended field in its new
form.
Hutchinson’s 2/-Net Novels
NEW VOLUMES AND NEW EDITIONS FOR AUTUMN =1919=
_Each volume bound, and with a most attractive pictorial wrapper_
YELLOW ENGLISH Dorota Flatau
AUNT JANE AND UNCLE JAMES Dorothea Conyers
THE ARRIVAL OF ANTONY Dorothea Conyers
PEG THE RAKE “Rita”
KITTY THE RAG “Rita”
THE BAG OF SAFFRON Baroness von Hutten
KINGSMEAD Baroness von Hutten
A SPECKLED BIRD Evans Augusta Wilson
THE LOST CONTINENT J. C. Cutcliffe Hyne
KATE OF KATE HALL Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler
THE GREAT AGE J. C. Snaith
THE INHERITANCE Una L. Silberrad
MAX Mrs. K. C. Thurston
THE DAWN OF ALL Robert Hugh Benson
A WINNOWING Robert Hugh Benson
LADY Q Mrs. Baillie Saunders
THE MONOMANIAC Emile Zola
THE SENTIMENTALISTS Robert Hugh Benson
PRISONERS Mary Cholmondeley
ROYAL END Henry Harland
EYES OF THE BLIND W. P Willcocks
_Bound in Paper with Pictorial Cover,_ =1/6= _net._
THE CONFESSIONS OF A LONDON GIRL By Elizabeth York Miller
THE WORLD’S BEST GIRL By Coralie Stanton and Heath Hosken
Hutchinson’s 2/-Novels
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THE SNARE By Rafael Sabatini
THE BANNER OF THE BULL Rafael Sabatini
THE TRAMPLING OF THE LILIES Rafael Sabatini
THE SHAME OF MOTLEY Rafael Sabatini
ANTHONY WILDING Rafael Sabatini
THE WOLF J. E. Buckrose
THE TOLL BAR J. E. Buckrose
SANDS OF GOLD Kathlyn Rhodes
SHARROW Baroness von Hutten
CHIFFON’S MARRIAGE “Gyp”
ST. ELMO Evans Augusta Wilson
THE COMBINED MAZE May Sinclair
THE FILIBUSTERS Cutcliffe Hyne
A DASH FOR A THRONE A. W. Marchmont
BY RIGHT OF SWORD A. W. Marchmont
EVELYN’S STORY Emma Jane Worboise
THE THREE BROTHERS Eden Phillpotts
BY WHAT AUTHORITY Robert Hugh Benson
THE LIGHT INVISIBLE Robert Hugh Benson
TWILIGHT Frank Danby
THE PRINCESS OF NEW YORK Cosmo Hamilton
THALASSA Mrs. Baillie Reynolds
A WELSH SINGER Allen Raine
THE TEMPLE OF LIES J. B. Harris-Burland
THE GREED OF CONQUEST J. B. Harris-Burland
THE GOLDEN SWORD J. B. Harris-Burland
THE WATCHMAN J. B. Harris-Burland
THE LION’S CLAWS J. B. Harris-Burland
THE WHITE YAWL J. B. Harris-Burland
THE SPY J. B. Harris-Burland
THE AVALANCHE J. B. Harris-Burland
THE BUILDER J. B. Harris-Burland
GABRIELLE JANTHRY J. B. Harris-Burland
THE GIRLS AT HIS BILLET Berta Ruck
MISS MILLIONS’ MAID Berta Ruck
THE COURTSHIP OF ROSAMUND FAYRE Berta Ruck
THE STRAYINGS OF SANDY Dorothea Conyers
THE DEVIL’S GARDEN W. B. Maxwell
TORN SAILS Allen Raine
LITTLE BLUE PIGEON A. G. Hales
SHE WHO MEANT WELL Curtis Yorke
A QUAKER WOOING Mrs. Fred Reynolds
A KING IN BABYLON Burton E. Stevenson
PERSUASIVE PEGGY Maravene Thompson
WHEN MICHAEL CAME TO TOWN Madame Albanesi
THE SUNLIT HILLS Madame Albanesi
HEARTS AND SWEETHEARTS By Madame Albanesi
POPPIES IN THE CORN Madame Albanesi
RICHARD RAYNAL, SOLITARY Robert Hugh Benson
A MIRROR OF SHALLOT Robert Hugh Benson
THE QUEEN’S TRAGEDY Robert Hugh Benson
THE KING’S ACHIEVEMENT Robert Hugh Benson
THE CONVENTIONALISTS Robert Hugh Benson
AN AVERAGE MAN Robert Hugh Benson
THE NECROMANCERS Robert Hugh Benson
LORD OF THE WORLD Robert Hugh Benson
THE COWARD Robert Hugh Benson
COME RACK! COME ROPE! Robert Hugh Benson
LONELINESS Robert Hugh Benson
INITIATION Robert Hugh Benson
ODDSFISH! Robert Hugh Benson
NONE OTHER GODS Robert Hugh Benson
OUR ADVERSARY M. E. Braddon
MY LADY FRIVOL Rosa N. Carey
THE MIXED DIVISIONS R. W. Campbell
THE EXPERIMENTS OF
GANYMEDE BUNN Dorothea Conyers
TWO IMPOSTORS AND TINKER Dorothea Conyers
IN OLD MADRAS Mrs. B. M. Croker
THE SERPENT’S TOOTH Mrs. B. M. Croker
GIVEN IN MARRIAGE Mrs. B. M. Croker
FROM CLUE TO CAPTURE Dick Donovan
HER MAD MONTH Mabel Barnes-Grundy
MARGUERITE’S WONDERFUL YEAR Mabel Barnes-Grundy
TWO IN A TENT--AND JANE Mabel Barnes-Grundy
HILARY ON HER OWN Mabel Barnes-Grundy
PATRICIA PLAYS A PART Mabel Barnes-Grundy
CANDYTUFT--I MEAN VERONICA Mabel Barnes-Grundy
THE THIRD MISS WENDERBY Mabel Barnes-Grundy
AN UNDRESSED HEROINE Mabel Barnes-Grundy
THE VACILLATIONS OF HAZEL Mabel Barnes-Grundy
BY ORDER OF THE CZAR Joseph Hatton
ADAMS CLAY Cosmo Hamilton
THE GREEN PATCH Baroness von Hutten
MAGPIE Baroness von Hutten
THE LORDSHIP OF LOVE Baroness von Hutten
MARIA Baroness von Hutten
MADEMOISELLE CELESTE A. F. Knight
‘GOOD OLD ANNA’ Mrs. Belloc Lowndes
IN COTTON WOOL W. B. Maxwell
MRS. THOMPSON W. B. Maxwell
THE RAGGED MESSENGER W. B. Maxwell
THE ONE WHO LOOKED ON F. F. Montrésor
THE GREAT WHITE HAND J. E. Muddock
THE ELUSIVE PIMPERNEL Baroness Orczy
A BRIDE OF THE PLAINS Baroness Orczy
PETTICOAT GOVERNMENT Baroness Orczy
A TRUE WOMAN By Baroness Orczy
MEADOWSWEET Baroness Orczy
THE LEGION OF HONOUR Baroness Orczy
THE MONEY MASTER Sir Gilbert Parker
THE GAMBLERS William Le Queux
CONFESSIONS OF A LADIES’ MAN William Le Queux
THE UNDER SECRETARY William Le Queux
BY BERWEN BANKS Allen Raine
THE MAN WHO WON Mrs. Baillie Reynolds
THE WAX IMAGE Kathlyn Rhodes
THE STRAIGHT RACE Kathlyn Rhodes
THE DESERT DREAMERS Kathlyn Rhodes
THE WILL OF ALLAH Kathlyn Rhodes
SWEET LIFE Kathlyn Rhodes
AFTERWARDS Kathlyn Rhodes
THE MAKING OF A SOUL Kathlyn Rhodes
THE LURE OF THE DESERT Kathlyn Rhodes
HALF A TRUTH “Rita”
THE BRIDGE OF KISSES Berta Ruck
THE LAD WITH WINGS Berta Ruck
HIS OFFICIAL FIANCÉE Berta Ruck
LOVE AT ARMS Rafael Sabatini
LITANY LANE Margaret Baillie Saunders
IN BLUE WATERS H. de Vere Stacpoole
THE PEARL FISHERS H. de Vere Stacpoole
THE BLUE HORIZON H. de Vere Stacpoole
THE CHILDREN OF THE SEA H. de Vere Stacpoole
CORPORAL JACQUES OF THE
FOREIGN LEGION H. de Vere Stacpoole
THE REEF OF STARS H. de Vere Stacpoole
LITTLE COMRADE Burton E. Stevenson
VIRGINIA OF THE RHODESIANS Cynthia Stockley
THE GRANDEST THING
IN THE WORLD By the Authors of “Missing the Tide”
THE WEB OF THE SPIDER H. B. Marriott Watson
BOUNDARY HOUSE Peggy Webling
THE WIFE’S TRIALS Emma Jane Worboise
THE LADIES’ PARADISE Emile Zola
THE MYSTERIES OF MARSEILLES Emile Zola
_In crown 8vo. with Pictorial Cover, =1/3= net._
THE STRANGLEHOLD By Coralie Stanton and Heath Hosken
MISSING THE TIDE
(Pages from the life
of Margaret Carson) By “One who knew her”