sed,
and has renounced all idea of marriage, when the nephew of her family
lawyer falls in love with her and shows an indomitable resolution to win
her for his wife. The old story of "_femme qui ecoute_" follows.
Damaris is swayed partly by his influence, partly by her own impulses,
and in great measure by the freely-expressed opinion of the specialist
who has had charge of her insane brother, that she is in no danger of
inheriting her mother's malady. Unluckily for her, she half consents to
engage herself to the lawyer. Had she wholly consented or wholly
refused, her doom might perhaps have been averted. We frankly consider
her lover quite unequal to the situation. He imposed upon her long and
lonely musings, sleepless nights and melancholy days, when he should
have given her the support of the strong will and powerful intellect
which the author lays claim to for his hero. Agonizing over painful
doubts is not good for people whose intellects hover on the border-lands
of nervous fantasy. Lincoln, if resolved to marry the unfortunate girl,
should have shown more Lochinvar-like haste. Instead, during the long
interval of waiting, Damaris is allowed to run the whole gamut of
painful experiences, and, naturally, at the climax of the story, her
"fate cries out." Of course this is the author's intention; but we
cannot help feeling that Miss Wainwright had hardly a fair chance. As an
offset to the gloom and melancholy of their tragedy, there is a lively
love-affair between two young people who snatch a fearful joy in the
midst of as dreary an environment as can easily be imagined. Both Miss
Dimmont and Dr. Chauncey Wilson are life-like, although not engaging,
characters, and the doctor, in particular, although we do not think
highly of his science, is a vigorous and consistent creation.

Although the plot of "As it was Written" turns on the murder of the
heroine, the book is yet a considerably livelier one than Mr. Bates's,
and imposes no such burden of hopeless misery on the reader. A startling
and mysterious crime is dear to the human imagination, and here we are
confronted with one hideous in its cruelty and inexplicable in its
circumstances. The story is told by the passionate lover of the murdered
Veronika, and there is much youthful eloquence and pathos in the
description of his meeting with the lovely young Jewess, their sympathy
in art,--for both are musicians,--their ardent hopes and beliefs for
each other. They are t