on; and the same is true of
the clever and unexpected close of H. C. Bunner's "A Sisterly Scheme,"
in many ways a little masterpiece of art.

In tales of mystery, the interest is maintained chiefly by the deft
manipulation of surprise; but even in novels wherein the aim to
mystify is very far from being the primary purpose of the author, it
is often wise to keep a secret from the reader for the sake of the
emphasis by surprise which may be derived at the moment of revelation.
In "Our Mutual Friend" the reader is led for a long time to suppose
that the character of Mr. Boffin is changing for the worse; and his
interest is stimulated keenly when he discovers ultimately that the
apparent degeneration has been only a pretense.

In the drama this expedient must be used with great delicacy, because
a sudden and startling shock of surprise is likely to scatter the
attention of the spectators and flurry them out of a true conception
of the scene. The reader of a novel, when he discovers with surprise
that he has been skilfully deceived through several pages, may pause
to reconstruct his conception of the narrative, and may even re-read
the entire passage through which the secret has been withheld from
him. But in the theater, the spectators cannot stop the play while
they reconstruct in retrospect their judgment of a situation; and
therefore, in the drama, a moment of surprise should be carefully led
up to by anticipatory suggestion. Before Lady Macbeth is disclosed
walking in her sleep, her doctor and her waiting-gentlewoman are sent
on to tell the audience of her "slumbery agitation." This is excellent
art in the theater; but it would be bad art in the pages of a novel.
In a story written to be read, surprise is most effective when it is
complete.

An even more interesting form of emphasis in narrative is emphasis
by suspense. Wilkie Collins is accredited with having said that the
secret of holding the attention of one's readers lay in the ability to
do three things: "Make 'em laugh; make 'em weep; make 'em wait." Still
abide these three; and the greatest is the last. The ability to
make the reader wait, through many pages and at times through many
chapters, is a very valuable asset of the writer of fiction; but
this ability is applied to best advantage when it is exercised within
certain limitations. In the first place, there is no use in making the
reader wait unless he is first given an inkling of what he is to wait
fo