e.
1895. The Paying Guest.
1895. Sleeping Fires.
1895. Eve's Ransom.
1897. The Whirlpool.
1898. Human Odds and Ends: Stories and Sketches.
1898. The Town Traveller.
1898. Charles Dickens: a Critical Study.
1899. The Crown of Life.
1901. Our Friend the Charlatan.
1901. By the Ionian Sea. Notes of a Ramble in Southern Italy.
1903. Forster's Life of Dickens--Abridgement.
1903. The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft.
1904. Veranilda: a Romance.
1905. Will Warburton: a Romance of Real Life.
1906. The House of Cobwebs, and other Stories.

[Of notices and reviews of George Gissing other than those mentioned in the
foregoing notes the following is a selection:--_Times_, 29 Dec. 1903;
_Guardian_, 6 Jan. 1904; _Outlook_, 2 Jan. 1904; _Sphere_, 9 Jan. 1904;
_Athenaeum_, 2 and 16 Jan. 1904; _Academy_, 9 Jan. 1904 (pp. 40 and 46);
New York _Nation_, 11 June 1903 (an adverse but interesting paper on the
anti-social side of Gissing); _The Bookman_ (New York), vol. xviii.;
_Independent Review_, Feb. 1904; _Fortnightly Review_, Feb. 1904;
_Contemporary Review_, Aug. 1897; C.F.G. Masterman's _In Peril of Change_,
1905, pp. 68-73; _Atlantic Monthly_, xciii. 280; _Upton Letters_, 1905, p.
206.]

THE HOUSE OF COBWEBS

It was five o'clock on a June morning. The dirty-buff blind of the
lodging-house bedroom shone like cloth of gold as the sun's unclouded rays
poured through it, transforming all they illumined, so that things poor and
mean seemed to share in the triumphant glory of new-born day. In the bed
lay a young man who had already been awake for an hour. He kept stirring
uneasily, but with no intention of trying to sleep again. His eyes followed
the slow movement of the sunshine on the wall-paper, and noted, as they
never had done before, the details of the flower pattern, which represented
no flower wherewith botanists are acquainted, yet, in this summer light,
turned the thoughts to garden and field and hedgerow. The young man had a
troubled mind, and his thoughts ran thus:--

'I must have three months at least, and how am I to live?... Fifteen
shillings a week--not quite that, if I spread my money out. Can one live on
fifteen shillings a week--rent, food, washing?... I shall have to leave
these lodgings at once. They're not luxurious, but I can't live here under
twenty-five, that's clear.... Three months to finish my book. It's good;
I'm hanged if it isn't! This time I shall find a publisher. All I have to
do is to s