treated a few steps and said: "May I
come in?"

"Of course you may, you dear girl," said Marion, looking up. "You may
come in and find the happiest woman in the world. Don't look surprised.
Roswell and I are young lovers, and we are laying plans for our
honeymoon. I don't deserve my happiness, but I have just discovered that
I have the best husband in the world."

Florence ran to Marion's side and kissed her. "Let me share your joy,"
she said.

That evening Harold Wainwright dined at the Sandersons, and four happy
people seated themselves at the little, round table. The candles shed
the same cheerful light upon the white linen and the glistening plate,
and Francois moved from place to place with his wonted precision; but
the fire of love had kindled on the hearth, and in that home a new life
had begun.

THE END.

MRS. ABBOTT'S BOOKS.

ALEXIA.

We have rarely found a more perfectly idyllic little love story
than this--_The Living Church, Chicago._

The story is told with such an airy touch, such a fine sense of
humor, such delicate crispness, that the reader is dealt little
shocks of pleasure at every successive sentence.--_Evening
Post, Chicago._

Little books like this, unpretentious, honest in motive, pure
in sentiment, and marked by true sympathy are not common in
current American literature, and therefore appeal all the more
strongly to people who are tired of the didactic, and so relish
keenly any representation which depends for its final effect
not on preconceived notions of the author, but on fidelity to
life.--_The Beacon, Boston._

THE BEVERLEYS,

_A Story of Calcutta._

As a story of character it is of high and rare merit. Every
person who appears in it is outlined with a distinctness of
individuality which cannot be mistaken.--_The Churchman, New
York._

"The Beverleys" is one of the notable novels of the year....
The writer knows life and has met people of breeding.... In
Eileen she draws a charming creature whose social adventures in
Calcutta will be read with unflagging interest.--_The
Philadelphia Press._

To have read "Alexia" is to feel a kindly predisposition
towards the successor of that charming little book. "The
Beverleys" has followed it, and it is perhaps unreasonable to
be disappointed at missing in a novel the wild-rose perfume of