ou might have your way, and all sorts of criticism and
reviewing had to be signed with the writer's name."

"But it would make the thing much more fair and moderate," said Brandon
"(not that I intended to include such little squibs as this); besides,
it would secure a man against being reviewed by his own rivals--or his
enemies."

"Yes," said Valentine; "but that sort of thing would tell both ways."

As he spoke with great gravity Mrs. Melcombe, mainly in the kind hope of
helping dear Laura's mistake into the background, asked with an air of
interest what he meant.

"Well," said Valentine, with calm audacity, "to give an example. Suppose
a man writes something, call it anything you please--call it a lecture
if you like--say that it is partly political, and that it is published
by request; and suppose further that somebody, name unknown, writes an
interesting account of its scope and general merits, and it is put into
some periodical--you can call it anything you please--say a county
paper, for instance. The author is set in the best light, and the
reviewer brings forward also some of his own views, which is quite
fair----"

As he seemed to be appealing to Laura, Laura said, "Yes; perfectly
fair."

"His own views--on--on the currency or anything else you like to
mention." Here John Mortimer asked Mrs. Melcombe if she would take some
more wine, Valentine proceeding gravely: "Now do you or do you not think
that if that review had been signed by the lecturer's father, brother,
or friend almost as intimate as a brother, it would have carried more
weight or less in consequence?"

As several of them smiled, Mrs. Melcombe immediately felt uncomfortable
again.

"If what he said was true," she said, "I cannot exactly see----" and
here she paused.

"Well," said John Mortimer, observing that the attention of his
keen-witted little daughter was excited, and being desirous, it seemed,
to give a plainer example of what it all meant, "let us say now, for
once, that I am a poet. I send out a new book, and sit quaking. The
first three reviews appear. Given in little they read thus:--

"One. 'He copied from Snooks, whose immortal work, "The Loves of the
Linendraper," is a comfort and a joy to our generation.'

"Two. 'He has none of the culture, the spontaneity, the suavity, the
reticence, the _abandon_, the heating power, the cooling power, the
light, the shade, or any of the other ingredients referred to by the
great Small