eyes and fair hair
of the North. An old Norwegian nurse is always at her side, a sort of
Lapland witch who teaches her how to see visions and to interpret dreams.
Adrian mocks at this superstition, as he calls it, but as a consequence
of disregarding it, Olga's only brother is drowned skating, and she never
speaks to Adrian again. The whole story is told in the most suggestive
way, the mere delicacy of the touch making what is strange seem real. The
most delightful character in the whole book, however, is a girl called
Hilary Marston, and hers also is the most tragic tale of all. Hilary is
like a little woodland faun, half Greek and half gipsy; she knows the
note of every bird, and the haunt of every animal; she is terribly out of
place in a drawing-room, but is on intimate terms with every young
poacher in the district; squirrels come and sit on her shoulder, which is
pretty, and she carries ferrets in her pockets, which is dreadful; she
never reads a book, and has not got a single accomplishment, but she is
fascinating and fearless, and wiser, in her own way, than any pedant or
bookworm. This poor little English Dryad falls passionately in love with
a great blind helpless hero, who regards her as a sort of pleasant tom-
boy; and her death is most touching and pathetic. Lady Augusta Noel has
a charming and winning style, her descriptions of Nature are quite
admirable, and her book is one of the most pleasantly-written novels that
has appeared this winter.

Miss Alice Corkran's Margery Merton's Girlhood has the same lightness of
touch and grace of treatment. Though ostensibly meant for young people,
it is a story that all can read with pleasure, for it is true without
being harsh, and beautiful without being affected, and its rejection of
the stronger and more violent passions of life is artistic rather than
ascetic. In a word, it is a little piece of true literature, as dainty
as it is delicate, and as sweet as it is simple. Margery Merton is
brought up in Paris by an old maiden aunt, who has an elaborate theory of
education, and strict ideas about discipline. Her system is an excellent
one, being founded on the science of Darwin and the wisdom of Solomon,
but it comes to terrible grief when put into practice; and finally she
has to procure a governess, Madame Reville, the widow of a great and
unappreciated French painter. From her Margery gets her first feeling
for art, and the chief interest of the book cen