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Silent Battle

<h2>XXIX ARCADIA AGAIN</h2></div> She did not move at his approach, although his footsteps among the dried leaves must have been plainly audible, and he was within ten feet of the fire before she turned. “We had better be going soon, Challón,” she began and then stopped, as she raised her head and looked at him. He wore his old fishing hat with the holes in it, a faded blue flannel shirt, corduroys and laced boots; and as her eye passed quickly over his figure to his face, she paled, started backward and stared with a terror in her eyes of something beyond comprehension. He saw her put her arm before her face to shut out the sight of him and rise to one knee, stumbling blindly away, when he caught her in his arms, whispering madly: “Jane! Jane! Don’t turn away from me. It’s Phil, do you hear? Myself—no other. You were waiting for me—and I came to you.” She trembled violently and her hand clutched his arm as though to assure herself of its reality. “Jane, look up at me. Look in my eyes and you’ll see your vision there—where it has always been, and always will be—unchangeable. Look at me, Jane.” Slowly she raised her head and saw that what he said was true, the pallor of dismay retreating before the warm flush that suffused her from neck to brow. “It’s—you, Phil? I can’t understand——” “Nor I. I don’t know or care—so long as you are[351] here—close in my arms. I’ll never let you go again. Kiss me, Jane.” She obeyed, blindly, passionately, the wonder in her eyes dying in heavenly content. “You came to me, Phil,” she whispered. “How? Why?” “Because you wanted me, because you were waiting for me. Isn’t it so?” “Yes, I was waiting for you. I came here because I couldn’t stay away. I—I don’t know why I came—” She paused and her hands tightened on his shoulders again. “Oh, Phil,” she cried again, “there’s no mistake?” “No—no.” “You frightened me so. I thought you were—unreal—a vision—your hat, your clothes are the same. I thought you were—the ghost of happiness.” He kissed her tenderly. “There are no ghosts, Jane, dear. Not even those of unhappiness,” he murmured. “There is no room for anything in the world but hope and joy—and love—yours and mine. I love you, dearest. Even when reason despaired, I loved you most and loved the pain of it.” “The pain of it—I know.” She was sobbing now, her slender body quivering under his caress. “Don’t, Jane,” he whispered. “Don’t cry. Don’t!” But she smiled up at him through her tears. “Let me, Phil, I—I’m so happy.” He soothed her gently and held her close in his arms, her head against his breast, as he would have held that of a tired child. After a time she relaxed and lay quiet. “You’re glad?” he asked. There was no reply. [352] “Are you glad?” he repeated. “Glad! Oh, Phil, I’ve suffered so.” “Oh, Jane, why? Look at me, dear. It was all a mistake. How could you have misjudged me?” She drew away from him and took his head between the palms of her hands and sought his eyes with her own. “There was no other?” she asked haltingly. “No—a thousand times no,” he returned her gaze eagerly. “How could there be any other?” he asked simply. She looked long and then closed her eyes and drew his lips down to hers. “You believe in me—now?” he asked. “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. “I believe in you. Even if I didn’t, I would still—still—adore you.” “God bless you for that. But you do believe——” he persisted. “Yes, yes, I do believe in you, Phil. I can’t doubt you when you look at me like that.” “Then I’ll never look away from you.” “Don’t look away. Those eyes! How they’ve haunted me. The shadows in them! There are no shadows now, Phil. They’re laughing at me, at my feminine weakness, convinced against itself. I thought you were a ghost.” She held him away and looked at him. “But you’re not in the least ghostlike. You’re looking very well. I don’t believe you’ve worried.” “Nor you. I’ve never seen you looking handsomer. It’s hardly flattering to my vanity.” She sighed. “I’ve lived in Arcadia for three weeks.” He led her over to the log beside the shack and sat beside her. [353] “Tell me,” he said at last, “how you came to be here—alone.” She straightened quickly and peered around. “But I’m not alone—my guide—he went into the brush for firewood.” “Curious!” “He should be back by now.” “I hope he doesn’t come back.” “Oh, Phil, so do I—but he will. And you?” “My guide, Joe Keegón, is there,” and he pointed upstream. A shade passed over her face. “But we’ll send them away, Jane, back where they came from. We need no guides now, you and I, no guides but our hearts, no servants but our hands. We’ll begin again—where we left off—yesterday.” She crouched closer in his arms. “Yesterday. Yes, it was only yesterday that we were here,” she sighed. “But the long night between!” “A dream, Jane, a dream—a phantom unhappiness—only this is real.” “Are you sure? I’m afraid I’ll awaken.” “No,” he laughed. “See, the fire is just as we left it last night; the black log charred, the shack, your bed, the two birch trees and your ridgepole.” “Yes,” she smiled. “The two creels and the cooking fish——” “Oh, those fish! My fish are all in the fire.” “Do you care?” “No—I’ll let them burn. But you’ll be good to me, won’t you, Phil?” There was another long pause. About them the orchestral stillness of the deep woods, amid which they lived a moment of immortality, all thought, all speech inadequate[354] to their sweet communion. A venturesome sparrow perched itself upon Jane’s ridgepole, and after putting its head on one side in inquiry uttered a low and joyful chirp, and failing to attract attention flew away to tell the gossip to its mate. The breeze crooned, the stream sighed and the sunlight kissed the cardinal flowers, which lifted their heads for its caress. All Nature breathed contentment, peace and consummation. But there was much to be said, much mystery to be revealed, and it was Jane who first spoke. She drew away from him gently and looked out into the underbrush. “Phil! Those guides,” she whispered. “They may have seen.” “Let them. I don’t care. Do you?” “Ye-s. Let me think. I can’t understand. Why hasn’t Challón come back? He was here a minute ago—or was it an hour? I don’t know.” Her fingers struggled with the disorder of her hair as she smiled at him. “Challón is a myth. I don’t believe you had a guide.” “A myth, indeed! I wish he was—now. I wanted to go out alone, but father wouldn’t let me——” “Mr. Loring!” Gallatin started up. “Oh, of course!” he sighed. “I had forgotten that there were such things as fathers.” “But there are—there is—” she laughed, “a perfectly substantial father within ten miles from here.” “You’re in camp again—in the same spot?” She nodded. “Any one else?” he frowned. “Not Mr. Van Duyn.” “Oh, dear, no. Coley has gone to Carlsbad.” He took her by the hand again. “You sent him away?” [355] “Yes.” “When?” “After ‘Clovelly.’ Oh, Phil, you hurt me so. But I couldn’t stand seeing him after that.” “Why?” “Because, cruel as you were, I knew that you were right and that I was wrong. I hated you that night—hated you because you made me such a pitiful thing; but— Oh, I loved you, too, more than ever. If only you hadn’t been so hard—so bitter. If you had been gentle then, you might have taken me in your arms and crushed me if you liked. I shouldn’t have cared.” “Sh—that was only in the dream, Jane.” And then: “You never cared for him?” he asked quickly. “Never.” “Then why——?” “My pride, Phil. Poor Coley!” He echoed the words heartlessly. “Poor Coley!” A pause. “Who else is in camp?” “Colonel Broadhurst, Mr. Worthington, Mr. and Mrs. Pennington——” “Nellie! Here?” “Yes, she had never been in the woods before. Why, what is the matter, Phil?” Gallatin straightened, one hand to his forehead. “I have it,” he said. “Have what?” “It was Nellie. I might have guessed it.” “Guessed——?” “It was her plan—coming up here—to the woods. Before we left New York she and John Kenyon were as thick as thieves—and——” “Oh!” [356] “Good old Uncle John! He did it. I remember now—a hundred things.” It was Jane’s turn to be surprised. “Yes—yes. It’s true, Phil. Oh, how cleverly they managed! But how could Nellie have known that I would come here? I only told Johnny Challón.” Phil laughed. “Nellie Pennington is a remarkable woman. She knew. She knows everything.” “Yes, I think she does,” said Jane. “We’ve been in camp a week. I started with Challón four days ago. He said he had lost the trail, and I gave it up. This morning—I can see it all now. Father—and Nellie started me off themselves at sunrise. They knew I’d come here and——” She stopped and took him abruptly by the arm. “Phil! Those wicked people had even fixed the day and hour of our meeting.” He nodded. “Of course! I wanted to come yesterday, but they wouldn’t let me. If I had—I should have missed you.” “Oh—how terrible!” Her accents were so genuine, her face so distressed at this possibility, that he laughed and caught her in his arms again. “But I didn’t miss you, Jane. That’s the point. Even if I had, Nellie would have managed somehow. She’s an extraordinary woman.” “She is, Phil. She chaperoned me until Coley was at the point of exasperation.” “Quite right of her, too.” “But why has she taken such an interest in you—in us?” “Because she’s an angel, because she has the wisdom[357] of the centuries, because she is a born matchmaker, because she always does what she makes up her mind to do, and, lastly—and most important, Jane, she has a proper sense of the eternal fitness of things.” “That’s true. Nothing else was possible, was it, Phil?” “No. It was written—a thousand years ago.” She turned in his arms. “Have you thought that—always?” she asked. “I never gave up hoping.” “Nor I.” She was silent a moment. “Phil.” “What, Jane?” “Would you have come here to Arcadia, alone, even if——” “Yes. I would have come here—alone. I was planning it all spring. This place is redolent of you. Your spirit has haunted it for a year. I wanted to be here to share it with Kee-way-din, if I couldn’t have—yourself.” “What would you have done if I had not been here?” “I don’t know—waited for you, I think.” “But it was I—who waited——” “You didn’t wait long. What were you thinking of, there by the fire?” “Of my dream.” “You dreamed of me?” “Yes. The night we came into camp I dreamed of you. I saw you poling a canoe upstream. I followed you across a portage. There was a heavy pack upon your back, but you did not mind the weight, for your step was light and your face happy. There was a shadow in your eyes, the same shadow, but your lips were smiling.[358] Night fell and still you toiled in the moonlight, and I knew that you were coming here. There were voices, too, and you were singing with them; but I wasn’t afraid, because you seemed so joyful.” “I was joyful.” “I saw the shack—and the ashes of the fire and I saw you coming through the bushes toward it. But when you came to the fire I was not there. You called me, but I couldn’t answer. I tried to, but I seemed to be dumb—and then—and that was all.” “A dream. It was all true—except the last.” “That’s why I came. I wanted to be here, so that if you did come, you might not be disappointed. I had failed you before. I did not want it to happen again. I brought Challón to show me the way. I was coming here again—and again—until you found me.” He raised her chin and looked into her eyes. “Dream again, dear.” “I’m dreaming now,” she sighed. “It is so sweet. Don’t let me wake, Phil. It—it mightn’t be true.” “Yes, it’s true, all true. You’ll marry me, Jane?” “Whenever you ask me to.” He looked away from her down the stream where the sunlight danced in the open. “I told you once that I would come for you some day—when I had conquered myself,” he said slowly, “when I had made a place among the useful men of the world, when I could look my Enemy in the eye—for a long while and not be defeated—to stare him down until he stole away—far off where I wouldn’t ever find him.” “Yes.” “He has gone, Jane. He does not trouble me and will not, I know. It was a long battle, a silent battle[359] between us, but I’ve won. And I’m ready to take you, Jane.” “Take me, then.” Her lips were already his. “You could have had me before, Phil,” she murmured. “I would have fought the Enemy with you he was my Enemy, too, but you would not have me.” He shook his head. “Not then. It was my own fight—not yours. And yet if it hadn’t been for you, perhaps I shouldn’t have fought at all.” She drew away from him a little. “No—I didn’t help you. I only made it harder. I’ll regret that always. It was your own victory—against odds.” He smiled. “What does it matter now. I had to win—not that battle alone—but others.” “Yes, I know,” she smiled. “Father is mad about you.” Gallatin threw up his chin and laughed to the sky. “He ought to be. I’d be mad, too, in his place.” His joy was infectious, and she smiled at him fondly. “You’re a very wonderful person, aren’t you?” “How could a demigod be anything else but wonderful? You created me. Aren’t you pleased with your handiwork?” “Immensely.” He paused a moment and then whispered into her ear. “You’ll marry me—soon?” “Yes.” “When?” [360] “Whenever you want me, Phil.” “This summer! They shall leave us here!” he said. She colored divinely. “Oh!” “It can be managed.” “A wedding in the woods! Oh, Phil!” “Why not? I’ll see——” But she put her fingers over his lips and would not listen to him. “Yes, dear,” he insisted, capturing her hands, “it shall be here. All this is ours—our forest, our stream, our sunlight, yours and mine, our kingdom. Would you change a kingdom for a villa or a fashionable hotel?” “No, no,” she whispered. “We will begin life together here—where love began—alone. You shall cook and I shall kill for you, and build with my own hands another shack, a larger one with two windows and a door—a wonderful shack with chairs, a table——” “And a porcelain bathtub?” “No—the bath is down the corridor—to the right.” She had used it. “It will do,” she smiled. “May I have a mirror?” “The pool——” Her lips twisted. “I tried it once, and fell in. A mirror, please,” she insisted. “Yes—a mirror—then.” “And a—a small, a very tiny steamer trunk?” He laughed. “Oh, yes, and a French maid, smelling salts and a motor——” “Phil! What shall I cook with?” “A frying pan and a tin coffeepot.” [361] “But I can make such beautiful muffins.” “I’ll build an oven.” “And cake——” “We’ll live like gods——” “Demigods——” “And goddesses.” It was sweet nonsense but nobody heard it but themselves. The shadows lengthened. The patches of light, turned to gold, were lifting along the tree trunks when from the deeps of the ancient forest below them there came three flutelike notes of liquid music of such depth and richness that they sat spellbound. In a moment they heard it again, the three cadenced notes of unearthly beauty and then the pause, while all nature held its breath and waited to hear again. “The hermit thrush,” he whispered. “Oh, Phil. It’s from the very soul of things.” “Sh——” But they did not hear it again. The hermit thrush, sings seldom and then only to those who belong to the Immortal Brotherhood of the Forest. THE END <hr class="chap" /> The Underwood Is the machine upon which all World’s Speed and Accuracy typewriter records have been established <div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/image05.jpg" width-obs="155" height-obs="131" alt="The Underwood" title="The Underwood" /></div> The Underwood Is the holder of the Elliott Cresson Medal for superiority of mechanical construction Underwood “The Machine You Will Eventually Buy” <hr class="r20" /> Underwood Building — New York <hr class="chap" /> JOHN FOX, JR.’S STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list. THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. <div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/image06.jpg" width-obs="150" height-obs="206" alt="STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS" title="STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS" /></div> The “lonesome pine” from which the story takes its name was a tall tree that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the foot-prints of a girl. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young engineer a madder chase than “the trail of the lonesome pine.” THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as “Kingdom Come.” It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often springs the flower of civilization. “Chad.” the “little shepherd” did not know who he was nor whence he came—he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery—a charming waif, by the way, who could play the banjo better than anyone else in the mountains. A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, the lair of moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner’s son, and the heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened “The Blight.” Two impetuous young Southerners fall under the spell of “The Blight’s” charms and she learns what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the mountaineers. Included in this volume is “Hell fer-Sartain” and other stories, some of Mr. Fox’s most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list. THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. <div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/image07.jpg" width-obs="150" height-obs="208" alt="STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER" title="STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER" /></div> “The Harvester,” David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If the book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man, with his sure grip on life, his superb optimism, and his almost miraculous knowledge of nature secrets, it would be notable. But when the Girl comes to his “Medicine Woods,” and the Harvester’s whole sound, healthy, large outdoor being realizes that this is the highest point of life which has come to him—there begins a romance, troubled and interrupted, yet of the rarest idyllic quality. FRECKLES. Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford. Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with “The Angel” are full of real sentiment. A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda. The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage. It is an inspiring story of a life worth while and the rich beauties of the out-of-doors are strewn through all its pages. AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. Design and decorations by Ralph Fletcher Seymour. The scene of this charming, idyllic love story is laid in Central Indiana. The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love; the friendship that gives freely without return, and the love that seeks first the happiness of the object. The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> THE NOVELS OF STEWART EDWARD WHITE THE RULES OF THE GAME. Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller. The romance of the son of “The Riverman.” The young college hero goes into the lumber camp, is antagonized by “graft” and comes into the romance of his life. ARIZONA NIGHTS. Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth. A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life of the ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece. THE BLAZED TRAIL. With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty. A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young man who blazed his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan pines. THE CLAIM JUMPERS. A Romance. The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the Black Hills has a hard time of it, but “wins out” in more ways than one. CONJUROR’S HOUSE. Illustrated Theatrical Edition. Dramatized under the title of “The Call of the North.” “Conjuror’s House” is a Hudson Bay trading post where the head factor is the absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and won a bride on this forbidden land. THE MAGIC FOREST. A Modern Fairy Tale. Illustrated. The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and their life is treated could only belong to one who is in love with the forest and open air. Based on fact. THE RIVERMAN. Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood. The story of a man’s fight against a river and of a struggle between honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and shrewdness on the other. 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Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> TITLES SELECTED FROM GROSSET & DUNLAP’S LIST RE-ISSUES OF THE GREAT LITERARY SUCCESSES OF THE TIME May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list. BEN HUR. A Tale of the Christ. By General Lew Wallace. This famous Religious-Historical Romance with its mighty story, brilliant pageantry, thrilling action and deep religious reverence, hardly requires an outline. The whole world has placed “Ben-Hur” on a height of pre-eminence which no other novel of its time has reached. The clashing of rivalry and the deepest human passions, the perfect reproduction of brilliant Roman life, and the tense, fierce atmosphere of the arena have kept their deep fascination. THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By General Lew Wallace. 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TARRY THOU TILL I COME or, Salathiel, the Wandering Jew. By George Croly. With twenty illustrations by T. de Thulstrup. A historical novel, dealing with the momentous events that occurred, chiefly in Palestine, from the time of the Crucifixion to the destruction of Jerusalem. The book, as a story, is replete with Oriental charm and richness, and the character drawing is marvelous. No other novel ever written has portrayed with such vividness the events that convulsed Rome and destroyed Jerusalem in the early days of Christianity. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> STORIES OF WESTERN LIFE May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list. RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE. By Zane Grey. Illustrated by Douglas Duer. In this picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago, we are permitted to see the unscrupulous methods employed by the invisible hand of the Mormon Church to break the will of those refusing to conform to its rule. FRIAR TUCK. By Robert Alexander Wason. Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood. Happy Hawkins tells us, in his humorous way, how Friar Tuck lived among the Cowboys, how he adjusted their quarrels and love affairs and how he fought with them and for them when occasion required. THE SKY PILOT. By Ralph Connor. Illustrated by Louis Rhead. There is no novel, dealing with the rough existence of cowboys, so charming in the telling, abounding as it does with the freshest and the truest pathos. THE EMIGRANT TRAIL. By Geraldine Bonner. Colored frontispiece by John Rae. The book relates the adventures of a party on its overland pilgrimage, and the birth and growth of the absorbing love of two strong men for a charming heroine. THE BOSS OF WIND RIVER. By A. M. Chisholm. Illustrated by Frank Tenney Johnson. This is a strong, virile novel with the lumber industry for its central theme and a love story full of interest as a sort of subplot. A PRAIRIE COURTSHIP. By Harold Bindloss. A story of Canadian prairies in which the hero is stirred, through the influence of his love for a woman, to settle down to the heroic business of pioneer farming. JOYCE OF THE NORTH WOODS. By Harriet T. Comstock. Illustrated by John Cassel. A story of the deep woods that shows the power of love at work among its primitive dwellers. It is a tensely moving study of the human heart and its aspirations that unfolds itself through thrilling situations and dramatic developments. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> AMELIA E. BARR’S STORIES DELIGHTFUL TALES OF OLD NEW YORK May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list. THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. With Frontispiece. This exquisite little romance opens in New York City in “the tender grace” of a May day long past, when the old Dutch families clustered around Bowling Green. It is the beginning of the romance of Katherine, a young Dutch girl who has sent, as a love token, to a young English officer, the bow of orange ribbon which she has worn for years as a sacred emblem on the day of St. Nicholas. After the bow of ribbon Katherine’s heart soon flies. Unlike her sister, whose heart has found a safe resting place among her own people, Katherine’s heart must rove from home—must know to the utmost all that life holds of both joy and sorrow. And so she goes beyond the seas, leaving her parents as desolate as were Isaac and Rebecca of old. THE MAID OF MAIDEN LANE; A Love Story. With Illustrations by S. M. Arthur. A sequel to “The Bow of Orange Ribbon.” The time is the gracious days of Seventeen-hundred and ninety-one, when “The Marseillaise” was sung with the American national airs, and the spirit affected commerce, politics and conversation. In the midst of this period the romance of “The Sweetest Maid in Maiden Lane” unfolds. Its chief charm lies in its historic and local color. SHEILA VEDDER. Frontispiece in colors by Harrison Fisher. A love story set in the Shetland Islands. Among the simple, homely folk who dwelt there Jan Vedder was raised; and to this island came lovely Sheila Jarrow. Jan knew, when first he beheld her, that she was the one woman in all the world for him, and to the winning of her love he set himself. The long days of summer by the sea, the nights under the marvelously soft radiance of Shetland moonlight passed in love-making, while with wonderment the man and woman, alien in traditions, adjusted themselves to each other. And the day came when Jan and Sheila wed, and then a sweeter love story is told. TRINITY BELLS. With eight Illustrations by C. M. Relyea. The story centers around the life of little Katryntje Van Clyffe, who, on her return home from a fashionable boarding school, faces poverty and heartache. Stout of heart, she does not permit herself to become discouraged even at the news of the loss of her father and his ship “The Golden Victory.” The story of Katryntje’s life was interwoven with the music of the Trinity Bells which eventually heralded her wedding day. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> CHARMING BOOKS FOR GIRLS May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list. WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE. By Jean Webster. Illustrated by C. D. Williams. One of the best stories of life in a girl’s college that has ever been written. It is bright, whimsical and entertaining, lifelike, laughable and thoroughly human. JUST PATTY. By Jean Webster. Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. Patty is full of the joy of living, fun-loving, given to ingenious mischief for its own sake, with a disregard for pretty convention which is an unfailing source of joy to her fellows. THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL. By Eleanor Gates. With four full page illustrations. This story relates the experience of one of those unfortunate children whose early days are passed in the companionship of a governess, seldom seeing either parent, and famishing for natural love and tenderness. A charming play as dramatized by the author. REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. One of the most beautiful studies of childhood—Rebecca’s artistic, unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of austere New Englanders. The stage version is making a phenomenal dramatic record. NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. Additional episodes in the girlhood of this delightful heroine that carry Rebecca through various stages to her eighteenth birthday. REBECCA MARY. By Annie Hamilton Donnell. Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green. This author possesses the rare gift of portraying all the grotesque little joys and sorrows and scruples of this very small girl with a pathos that is peculiarly genuine and appealing. EMMY LOU: Her Book and Heart. By George Madden Martin. Illustrated by Charles Louis Hinton. Emmy Lou is irresistibly lovable, because she is so absolutely real. She is just a bewitchingly innocent, hugable little maid. The book is wonderfully human. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> GROSSET & DUNLAP’S DRAMATIZED NOVELS Original, sincere and courageous—often amusing—the kind that are making theatrical history. MADAME X. By Alexandre Bisson and J. W. McConaughy. Illustrated with scenes from the play. A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her husband would not forgive an error of her youth. Her love for her son is the great final influence in her career. A tremendous dramatic success. THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens. An unconventional English woman and an inscrutable stranger meet and love in an oasis of the Sahara. Staged this season with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties. THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By Lew. Wallace. A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, presenting with extraordinary power the siege of Constantinople, and lighting its tragedy with the warm underglow of an Oriental romance. As a play it is a great dramatic spectacle. TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace Miller White. Illust. by Howard Chandler Christy. A girl from the dregs of society, loves a young Cornell University student, and it works startling changes in her life and the lives of those about her. The dramatic version is one of the sensations of the season. YOUNG WALLINGFORD. By George Randolph Chester. Illust. by F. R. Gruger and Henry Raleigh. A series of clever swindles conducted by a cheerful young man, each of which is just on the safe side of a State’s prison offence. As “Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford,” it is probably the most amusing expose of money manipulation ever seen on the stage. THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY. By P. G. Wodehouse. Illustrations by Will Grefe. Social and club life in London and New York, an amateur burglary adventure and a love story. Dramatized under the title of “A Gentleman of Leisure,” it furnishes hours of laughter to the play-goers. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> GROSSET & DUNLAP’S DRAMATIZED NOVELS THE KIND THAT ARE MAKING THEATRICAL HISTORY May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list. WITHIN THE LAW. By Bayard Veiller & Marvin Dana. Illustrated by Wm. Charles Cooke. This is a novelization of the immensely successful play which ran for two years in New York and Chicago. The plot of this powerful novel is of a young woman’s revenge directed against her employer who allowed her to be sent to prison for three years on a charge of theft, of which she was innocent. WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY. By Robert Carlton Brown. Illustrated with scenes from the play. This is a narrative of a young and innocent country girl who is suddenly thrown into the very heart of New York, “the land of her dreams,” where she is exposed to all sorts of temptations and dangers. The story of Mary is being told in moving pictures and played in theatres all over the world. THE RETURN OF PETER GRIMM. By David Belasco. Illustrated by John Rae. This is a novelization of the popular play in which David Warfield, as Old Peter Grimm, scored such a remarkable success. The story is spectacular and extremely pathetic but withal, powerful, both as a book and as a play. THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens. This novel is an intense, glowing epic of the great desert, sunlit barbaric, with its marvelous atmosphere of vastness and loneliness. It is a book of rapturous beauty, vivid in word painting. The play has been staged with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties. BEN HUR. A Tale of the Christ. By General Lew Wallace. The whole world has placed this famous Religious-Historical Romance on a height of pre-eminence which no other novel of its time has reached. The clashing of rivalry and the deepest human passions, the perfect reproduction of brilliant Roman life, and the tense, fierce atmosphere of the arena have kept their deep fascination. A tremendous dramatic success. BOUGHT AND PAID FOR. By George Broadhurst and Arthur Hornblow. Illustrated with scenes from the play. A stupendous arraignment of modern marriage which has created an interest on the stage that is almost unparalleled. The scenes are laid in New York, and deal with conditions among both the rich and poor. The interest of the story turns on the day-by-day developments which show the young wife the price she has paid. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> THE NOVELS OF CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list. JEWEL: A Chapter in Her Life. Illustrated by Maude and Genevieve Cowles. A sweet, dainty story, breathing the doctrine of love and patience and sweet nature and cheerfulness. JEWEL’S STORY BOOK. Illustrated by Albert Schmitt. A sequel to “Jewel” and equally enjoyable. CLEVER BETSY. Illustrated by Rose O’Neill. The “Clever Betsy” was a boat—named for the unyielding spinster whom the captain hoped to marry. Through the two Betsys a clever group of people are introduced to the reader. SWEET CLOVER: A Romance of the White City. A story of Chicago at the time of the World’s Fair. A sweet human story that touches the heart. THE OPENED SHUTTERS. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher. A summer haunt on an island in Casco Bay is the background for this romance. A beautiful woman, at discord with life, is brought to realize, by her new friends, that she may open the shutters of her soul to the blessed sunlight of joy by casting aside vanity and self love. A delicately humorous work with a lofty motive underlying it all. THE RIGHT PRINCESS. An amusing story, opening at a fashionable Long Island resort, where a stately Englishwoman employs a forcible New England housekeeper to serve in her interesting home. How types so widely apart react on each other’s lives, all to ultimate good, makes a story both humorous and rich in sentiment. THE LEAVEN OF LOVE. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher. At a Southern California resort a world-weary woman, young and beautiful but disillusioned, meets a girl who has learned the art of living—of tasting life in all its richness, opulence and joy. The story hinges upon the change wrought in the soul of the blasè woman by this glimpse into a cheery life. Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York <hr class="chap" /> <div class="tnote"> Transcriber’s Notes: A List of Illustrations has been provided for the convenience of the reader. Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected. Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. </div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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