FOR BETTER FOR WORSE.

"

nd all is gone?"

"Why, no, sir; no, Mr. Fletcher—not all. There's that six hundred a year, and that little place down at Dover, that you settled on your wife; you will save that out of the wreck. A trifle—a mere nothing, I am aware, out of such a noble inheritance as yours, Mr. Fletcher—but still something. Half a loaf you know, sir, is—"

He stopped abruptly at a motion of Richard Fletcher's hand. He was a lawyer, and used to this sort of thing; and not much effected by the story, he had run down from New York to tell Mr. Fletcher; his rich client had speculated rashly, and lost—a common case enough. A week ago he was worth half a million; to-night he is not worth a sixpence—that was all. There were his wife's settlements, of course; but they were his wife's—and Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher were two.

"I thought I had better let you know at once, Mr. Fletcher," the lawyer said; "it's sure to be in everybody's mouth to-morrow. And now, if I'm to catch the nine-fifty up-train, I had better be starting. Good-night, sir. Worse luck now, better next time."

"Good-night," Richard Fletcher said, mechanically. He was leaning against the low, iron gateway, his folded arms lying on its carved top, and the black shadows of the beeches shutting him in like a pall. Up the avenue colored lamps gleamed along the chestnut walks, blue, red, and green, turning the dark November night to fairy-land. The wide front of the stately mansion was all aglow with illumination, with music, and flowers, and fair women; and fairest, where all were fair, its proud young mistress, Marian Fletcher.

Two men, stragglers from the ball-room, with their cigars lighted, came down through the gloom, close to the motionless figure against the iron gate—only another shadow among the shadows—so close that he heard every word.

"Rather superb style of thing, all this," one said. "When Dick Fletcher does this sort of thing, he does do it. Wonderful luck he's had, for a poor devil, who five years ago hadn't a rap; and that wife of his—magnificent Marian—most lovely thing the sun shines on."

"Too lovely, my friend, for—she's ice."

"Ah! To her husband? Married him for his fortune, didn't she? The old story, very poor, very proud; and sold to the highest bidder. Craymore stood to win there once, didn't he?"

"It was a desperate flirtation—an engagement, the knowing ones do say; but Capt. Craymore knows better than to indulge in such a luxury as a penniless wife. So Fletcher came along, made rich by a sudden windfall, and she's Mrs. Fletcher to-night; and more beautiful and queenly than ever. I watched her dancing with Craymore half an hour ago, and—Well, I didn't envy Fletcher, if he is worth half a million. Let's go back to the house, it's beginning to rain."

"Suppose Fletcher were to lose his fortune—what then?"

"My good fellow, he would lose his wife in the same hour. Some women there are who would go with their husbands to beggary—and he's a fine fellow, too, is Fletcher; but not the lovely Marian. There, the rain begins!"

The shadow among the beeches stood stiller than stone. A long, low wind worried the trees, and the rain beat its melancholy drip, drip. Half an hour, an hour, two, passed, but the figure leaning against the iron-gate was as still as the iron itself. But slowly he stirred at last, became conscious he was dripping, and passed slowly out of the rainy gloom, and up the lamplit-avenue, and into the stately home, that, after to-night, would be his no more.

Another half-hour, and he was back in the glitter and dazzle and music of the brilliant suit of drawing-rooms, his wet garments changed, the fixed whiteness of his face telling but little of his sudden blow. He had not been missed; his radiant three months' bride shone there in diamonds, and laces, and roses resplendent—and who was to think of the rich Fletcher! "Only a clod," whom she had honored by marrying. Capt. Craymore was by her side, more fascinating than ever. How could she find time to think of any one so plebeian as the underbred rich man she had married, by his entrancing side?

But it was all over at last. The "lights were fled, the garlands dead," and Mrs. Fletcher up in her dressing-room, in the raw morning light, was under the hands of her maid. She lay back among the violet-velvet cushions, languid and lovely, being disrobed, and looked round with an irritated flush at the abrupt entrance of the master of the house. He did not often intrude; since the first few weeks of their marriage he had been a model husband, and kept his place. Therefore, Mrs. Fletcher looked surprised, as well as annoyed now.

"Do you wish to speak to me, Mr. Fletcher?" she asked, coldly; for after an evening with Capt. Craymore she was always less tolerant of her bourgeois husband.

"Yes—but alone. I will wait in your sitting-room until you dismiss your maid."

Something in his colorless face—something in the sound of his voice startled her; but he was gone while yet speaking, and the maid went on. "Hurry, Louise," her mistress said, briefly; and Louise coiled up the shining hair, arranged the white dressing-gown, and left her.

Marian Fletcher arose and swept into the next room. It was the daintiest bijou of boudoirs, all rose-silk, and silver, and filigree-work, and delicious Greuze paintings, smiling down from the fluted panels. A bright wood-fire burned on the hearth, and her husband stood against the low chimney-piece, whiter and colder than the marble itself.

"Well," she said, "what is it?"

He looked up. She stood before him in her beauty and her pride, jewels flashed on her fairy hands—a queen by right divine of her azure eyes and tinselled hair—his, yet not his; "so near, and yet so far." He loved her, how well his own wrung heart only knew.

"What is it?" she repeated, impatiently. "I am tired and sleepy. Tell me in a word."

"I can—ruin!"

"What?"

"I am ruined. All is gone. I am a beggar."

She started back, turning whiter than her dress, and leaned heavily against a chair.

"Ruined!" she repeated. "A beggar!"

"Ugly words, are they not? but quite true. I did not know it until last night; Kearstall came from town to tell me. My last grand speculation has failed, and in its failure engulfed everything. I am as poor as the poorest laborer on this estate; poorer than I was five years ago, before this fortune was left me."

There was a sort of savage pleasure in thus hideously putting things in their ugliest light. Rich or poor, she despised him alike. What need was there for him to mince matters?

"There are your settlements, your six hundred a-year and the Dover farm, that crumb of the loaf is left, and remains yours. I am sorry for you, Mrs. Fletcher—sorry that your sacrifice of youth and loveliness, on the altar of Mammon, has been in vain. I had hoped, when I married you, of winning some return for the limitless love I gave you. I know to-night how futile that hope has been. Once again, for your sake, I am sorry; for myself I do not care. The world is a wide place, and I can win my way. I give you your freedom, the only reparation for marrying you in my power to make. I leave here to-night, New York to-morrow; and so—farewell!"

She stood like a stone; he turned and left her. Once she had made a movement, seeing the white anguish of his face, as though to go to him—but she did not. He was gone, and she dropped down in the rose-and-silver glitter of her fairy-room, as miserable a woman as day ever dawned on.

A month later, and she was far away, buried alive in the Dover Cottage. All had gone; the nine days wonder was at an end; the "rich Fletcher" and his handsome wife had disappeared out of the magic whirl of society; and society got on very well without them. They had been, and they were not—and the story was told. Of all who had broken bread with the ruined man, there were not two who cared a fillip whether he were living or dead.

The December wind wailed over the stormy sea, and the wintry rain lashed the windows of the Dover Cottage. Marian Fletcher sat before the blazing fire in a long, low, gloomy parlor, and Capt. Craymore stood before her. He had but just found her out, and he had run down to see how she bore her altered fortunes. She bore them as an uncrowned queen might, with regal pride and cold endurance. The exquisite face had lost its rose-leaf bloom; the deep, still eyes looked larger and more fathomless; the mouth was set in patient pain—that was all. The man felt his heart burn as he looked at her, she was so lovely, so lovely. He leaned over, and the passionate words came that he could not check. He loved her. She loved him; she was forsaken and alone—why need they part?

She listened, growing whiter than a dead woman. Then she came and faced him, until the cowered soul within him shrank and quailed.

"I have fallen very low," she said. "I am poor, and alone, and a deserted wife. But Capt. Craymore, I have not fallen low enough to be your mistress. Go!"

Her unflickering finger pointed to the door. There was that in her face no man dare disobey, and he slunk forth like a whipped hound. Then as on that night when she had parted from her husband, she slipped down in her misery to the ground, and hid her face in her hands. Now she knew the man she had loved, now she was learning to know the man who had loved her. The one would drag her down to bottomless depths of blackness and infamy; the other had given up all for her—even herself—and gone forth a homeless, penniless wanderer, to fight the battle of life.

"Oh! truest and noblest!" her heart cried, in its passionate pain, "how I have wronged you! Bravest and best heart that ever beat in man's breast—am I only to know your worth when it is too late?"

It seemed so. Richard Fletcher had disappeared out of the world—the world she knew—as utterly as though he had never been in it. The slow months dragged drearily by; but he never came. The piteous advertisement in the Herald newspaper stood unanswered when the spring-buds burst; and she was alone in her worse than widowhood, in the Dover Cottage still.

With the glory of the brilliant new summer, new hope dawned for her. A tiny messenger, with Richard Fletcher's great brown eyes, smiled up in her face, and a baby head nestled against her lonely heart. Ah! she knew now how she loved baby's father, when the brown eyes, of which these were the counterpart, were lost to her forever.

So, with the great world shut out, and with only baby Richard and her two servants, life went on in the solitary cottage. The winds of winter had five times swept over the ceaseless sea, and little Richard could toddle and lisp; and in Marian Fletcher's heart hope slowly died out. She had lost him through her own fault; he, to whom she had been bound in the mysterious tie of marriage, would never look upon her cruel face again.

She sat one stormy November night, thinking very sadly of the true heart and strong love she had cast away. Her boy lay asleep before the ruddy fire; the rain and wind beat like human things against the glass. She sat looking seaward, with weary, empty eyes, so desolate—so desolate, her soul crying out with unutterable yearning for the wanderer to come back.

As she stood there gazing sadly out at the wild night falling over the wild sea, her one servant came hurriedly into the room with startled affright in her eyes.

"Oh, ma'am," she cried, "such a dreadful thing! The up-train from New York has had an accident, has fell over the embankment just below here and half the passengers are killed and wounded. The screams as I came past was awful to hear. But surely, ma'am," the woman broke off in dismay as her mistress seized her hat and shawl, "you won't go out and it raining and a blowing fit to take you off your feet. You can't do nothing, and you'll get your death."

But Mrs. Fletcher was out already, heedless of wind or rain, and making her way to the scene of the accident. "Poor souls," she was thinking, "so sudden and frightful a fate. Perhaps I can be of help to some one." For her life trouble had done this for her; made her tender of heart, and pitiful of soul to all who suffered.

A great crowd were there from Dover village as she drew near, beginning to bear away the wounded, the dying and the dead. Groans and cries of infinite misery made the rainy twilight hideous. Mrs. Fletcher shuddered, but she stooped resolutely over a man who lay almost at her feet, a man whom she might have thought dead but for the low moan that now and then came from his lips.

She bent above him timidly, her heart fluttering at something vaguely familiar in his look.

"Can I do anything for you?" she asked, "I fear you are very very badly hurt."

The eyes opened; in the dim light he half arose on his elbow. "Marian," he said, and fell back and fainted wholly away.

And so her prayers were answered after many days, and death itself seemed to have given back her husband to Marian Fletcher's arms. Over his pillow life and Death fought their sharp battle, for many long weeks, while she watched over him, and prayed beside him in what agony of remorse, and terror and passionate tenderness only Heaven and herself ever knew.

Those ceaseless, agonized prayers prevailed. In the pale dawn of a Christmas morning, the heavy brown eyes opened and fixed upon her face, no longer in delirium, but with the kindling light of recognition, and great and sudden joy.

"Marian," he said faintly, "my wife."

She was on her knees beside him, his weak head lying in her caressing arms.

"My dearest, my dearest, thank God; my own, my cherished husband, forgive your erring wife."

His face lit with a rare smile, as he looked up into the pale, tear wet, passionately earnest face.

"It is true then what I heard, what has brought me home. You have sought me. But Marian, what if I must tell you I am still poor, poor as when we parted." She shrunk away as though he had hurt her.

"I have deserved that you should say this to me," she said in a stifled voice, "I have been the basest of the base in the past—why should you think me other than heartless and mercenary still. But oh, Richard, don't you see—I love you now, so dearly and truly, my husband, that I can never have any life apart from you more. Do not talk to me of poverty—only tell me you will never leave me again." "Never again," he answered, "till death us do part. But Marian, though I am no longer the millionaire you married, I do not return to you quite a beggar. More or less I have retrieved the past, and we can begin life anew almost as luxuriously as we left it off." Her face clouded for a moment.

"Ah! I am sorry. I wanted to atone: how can I now? I have been your wife in the sunshine. I thought to show you what I could be in the shadow, and now all that is at an end. I can never show you how I have repented for—that night."

But Richard Fletcher only smiles a smile of great content. And in the silence that ensues, there comes over the snowy fields the joyful bells of the blessed Christmas morning, and in their hearts both bless God for the new life, that dawns with this holy day.

All handsomely bound in cloth, with gilt backs suitable for libraries.

Mary J. Holmes' Novels.

Tempest and Sunshine$1 50

English Orphans1 50

Homestead on the Hillside1 50

'Lena Rivers1 50

Meadow Brook1 50

Dora Deane1 50

Cousin Maude1 50

Marian Grey1 50

Edith Lyle1 50

Daisy Thornton1 50

Chateau D'Or1 50

Queenie Hetherton (New)1 50

Darkness and Daylight1 50

Hugh Worthington1 50

Cameron Pride1 50

Rose Mather1 50

Ethelyn's Mistake1 50

Millbank1 50

Edna Browning1 50

West Lawn1 50

Mildred1 50

Forrest House1 50

Madeline (New)1 50

Christmas Stories—and portrait1 50

Charles Dickens—25 Vols.—"Carleton's Edition."

Pickwick and Catalogue$1 50

Dombey and Son1 50

Bleak House1 50

Martin Chuzzlewit1 50

Barnaby Rudge—Edwin Drood1 50

Child's England—Miscellaneous1 50

Christmas Books—Two Cities1 50

Oliver Twist—Uncommercial1 50

David Copperfield1 50

Nicholas Nickleby1 50

Little Dorrit1 50

Our Mutual Friend1 50

Curiosity Shop—Miscellaneous1 50

Sketches by Boz—Hard Times1 50

Great Expectations—Italy1 50

Full Sets in half calf bindings50 00

Marion Harland's Novels.

Alone$1 50

Hidden Path1 50

Moss Side1 50

Nemesis1 50

Miriam1 50

At Last1 50

Sunnybank1 50

Ruby's Husband1 50

My Little Love1 50

True as Steel (New)1 50

Augusta J. Evans' Novels.

Beulah$1 75

Macaria1 75

Inez1 75

St. Elmo2 00

Vashti2 00

Infelice (New)2 00

Carleton's Popular Quotations.

Carleton's New Hand-Book—Familiar Quotations, with their authorship $1 50

Carleton's Classical Dictionary—A Condensed Mythology for popular use75

May Agnes Fleming's Novels.

Guy Earlscourt's Wife$1 50

A Wonderful Woman1 50

A Terrible Secret1 50

A Mad Marriage1 50

Norine's Revenge1 50

One Night's Mystery1 50

Kate Danton1 50

Silent and True1 50

Maude Percy's Secret (New)1 50

Heir of Charlton1 50

Carried by Storm1 50

Lost for a Woman1 50

A Wife's Tragedy1 50

A Changed Heart1 50

Pride and Passion1 50

Sharing Her Crime1 50

A Wronged Wife1 50

The Actress Daughter (New)1 50

Allan Pinkerton's Works.

Expressmen and Detectives$1 50

Mollie Maguires and Detectives1 50

Somnambulists and Detectives1 50

Claude Melnotte and Detectives1 50

Criminal Reminiscences, etc.1 50

Rail-Road Forger, etc.1 50

Bank Robbers and Detectives1 50

Gypsies and Detectives1 50

Spiritualists and Detectives1 50

Model Town and Detectives1 50

Strikers, Communists, etc.1 50

Mississippi Outlaws, etc.1 50

Bucholz and Detectives1 50

Burglar's Fate and Detectives1 50

Bertha Clay's Novels.

Thrown on the World$1 50

A Bitter Atonement1 50

Love Works Wonders1 50

Evelyn's Folly1 50

Under a Shadow1 50

Beyond Pardon (New)1 50

A Woman's Temptation1 50

Repented at Leisure1 50

A Struggle for a Ring1 50

Lady Damer's Secret1 50

Between Two Loves1 50

Put Asunder (New)1 50

"New York Weekly" Series.

Brownie's Triumph—Sheldon$1 50

The Forsaken Bride. do.1 50

Earl Wayne's Nobility. do.1 50

Lost, a Pearle— do.1 50

Young Mrs. Charnleigh-Henshew1 50

His Other Wife—Ashleigh1 50

A Woman's Web—Maitland1 50

Curse of Everleigh—Pierce1 50

Peerless Cathleen—Agnew1 50

Faithful Margaret—Ashmore1 50

Nick Whiffles—Robinson1 50

Grinder Papers—Dallas1 50

Lady Leonora—Conklin1 50

Miriam Coles Harris' Novels.

Rutledge$1 50

Frank Warrington1 50

Louie's Last Term, St. Mary's1 50

Missy1 50

A Perfect Adonis1 50

The Sutherlands1 50

St. Philips1 50

Round Hearts for Children1 50

Richard Vandermarck1 50

Happy-Go-Lucky (New)1 50

A. S. Roe's Select Stories.

True to the Last$1 50

The Star and the Cloud1 50

How Could He Help it?1 50

A Long Look Ahead1 50

I've Been Thinking1 50

To Love and to be Loved1 50

Julie P. Smith's Novels.

Widow Goldsmith's Daughter$1 50

Chris and Otho1 50

Ten Old Maids1 50

Lucy1 50

His Young Wife1 50

The Widower1 50

The Married Belle1 50

Courting and Farming1 50

Kiss and be Friends1 50

Blossom Bud (New)1 50

Artemas Ward.

Complete Comic Writings—With Biography, Portrait and 50 illustrations$1 50

The Game of Whist.

Pole on Whist—The English standard work. With the "Portland Rules"$75

Victor Hugo's Great Novel.

Les Miserables—Translated from the French. The only complete edition$1 50

Mrs. Hill's Cook Book.

Mrs. A. P. Hill's New Southern Cookery Book, and domestic receipts$2 00

Celia E. Gardner's Novels.

Stolen Waters. (In verse)$1 50

Broken Dreams. do.1 50

Compensation. do.1 50

A Twisted Skein. do.1 50

Tested1 50

Rich Medway1 50

A Woman's Wiles1 50

Terrace Roses1 50

Captain Mayne Reid's Works.

The Scalp Hunters$1 50

The Rifle Rangers1 50

The War Trail1 50

The Wood Rangers1 50

The Wild Huntress1 50

The White Chief1 50

The Tiger Hunter1 50

The Hunter's Feast1 50

Wild Life1 50

Osceola, the Seminole1 50

Hand-Books of Society.

The Habits of Good Society—The nice

points of taste and good manners$1 00

The Art of Conversation—For those

who wish to be agreeable talkers1 00

The Arts of Writing, Reading and

Speaking—For Self-Improvement1 00

New Diamond Edition—The above three

books in one volume—small type1 50

Josh Billings.

His Complete Writings—With Biography, Steel Portrait and 100 Illustrations$2 00

Old Probability—Ten Comic Alminax, 1870 to 1879. In one volume, Illustrated1 50

Charles Dickens.

Child's History of England—With Historical Illustrations for School use$ 75

Parlor Table Album of Dickens' Illustrations— With descriptive text1 50

Lord Bateman Ballad—Comic Notes by Dickens; Pictures by Cruikshank25

Annie Edwardes' Novels.

Stephen Lawrence$ 75

Susan Fielding75

A Woman of Fashion75

Archie Lovell75

Ernest Renan's French Works.

The Life of Jesus. Translated$1 75

Lives of the Apostles. Do.1 75

The Life of St. Paul. Translated1 75

The Bible in India—By Jacolliot2 00

G. W. Carleton.

Our Artist in Cuba, Peru, Spain and Algiers—150 Caricatures of Travel$1 00

M. M. Pomeroy (Brick).

Sense. A serious book$1 50

Gold Dust. Do.1 50

Our Saturday Nights1 50

Nonsense. (A comic book)1 50

Brick-dust. Do.1 50

Home Harmonies1 50

Miscellaneous Works.

The Children's Fairy Geography—With hundreds of beautiful illustrations$1 75

Carleton's Popular Readings—Edited by Anna Randall Diehl. 2 vols., each1 50

Laus Veneris, and other Poems—By Algernon Charles Swinburne1 50

Sawed-off Sketches—Comic book by "Detroit Free Press Man." Illustrated1 50

Hawkeye Sketches—Comic book by "Burlington Hawk Eye Man." Do.1 50

Naughty Girl's Diary—By the author of "A Bad Boy's Diary." Do.1 00

The Culprit Fay—Joseph Rodman Drake's Poem. With 100 illustrations2 00

L'Assommoir—An English Translation from Zola's famous French novel1 00

Parlor Amusements—Games, Tricks, Home Amusements, by Frank Bellew1 00

Love [L'Amour]—English Translation from Michelet's famous French work1 50

Woman [La Femme]—The Sequel to "L'Amour" Do.1 50

Verdant Green—A racy English college story. With 200 comic illustrations1 50

Clear Light from the Spirit World—By Kate Irving1 25

Bottom Facts Concerning Spiritualism—By John W. Truesdell1 50

Why Wife and I Quarreled—Poem by the author of "Betsey and I are Out"1 00

A Northern Governess at the Sunny South—By Professor J. H. Ingraham1 50

Birds of a Feather Flock Together—By Edward A. Sothern, the actor1 50

Yachtman's Primer—Correct Instructions for Amateur Sailors. By Warren50

Longfellow's Home Life—By Blanche Roosevelt Machetta. Illustrated1 50

Redbird's Christmas Story—An Illustrated Juvenile. By Mary J. Holmes50

Every-Day Home Advice—For Household and Domestic Economy1 50

Ladies' and Gentlemen's Etiquette Book of the best Fashionable Society1 00

Love and Marriage—A book for unmarried people. By Frederick Saunders1 00

Under the Rose—A Capital book, by the author of "East Lynne."1 00

So Dear a Dream—A novel by Miss Grant, author of "The Sun Maid."1 00

Give me thine Heart—A capital new domestic Love Story by Roe1 00

Meeting Her Fate—A charming novel by the author of "Aurora Floyd."1 00

Faithful to the End—A delightful domestic novel by Roe1 00

So True a Love—A novel by Miss Grant, author of "The Sun Maid."1 00

Humorous Works.

Abijah Beanpole in New York$ 50

Never—Companion to "Don't."25

Always—By author of "Never."25

Stop—By author of "Never."25

The Fall of Man—A satire50

Chronicles of Gotham—A satire25

The Comic Liar—By Alden1 50

Cats, Cooks, etc.—By E. T. Ely50

West India Pickles. W. P. Talboys1 00

Bad Boy's Reader—Frank Bellew10

Store Drumming as a Fine Art50

Mrs. Spriggins—By Widow Bedott1 50

Phemie Frost—Ann S. Stephens1 50

That Awful Boy—N. Y. Weekly50

That Bridget of Ours. Do.50

Orpheus C. Kerr—Four vols. in one2 00

Miscellaneous works

Dawn to Noon—By Violet Fane$1 50

Constance's Fate. Do.1 50

French Love Songs—Translated50

Lion Jack—By P. T. Barnum1 50

Jack in the Jungle. Do.1 50

How to Win in Wall Street50

The Life of Sarah Bernhardt25

Arctic Travels—By Dr. Hayes1 50

Whist for Beginners25

Flashes from "Ouida."1 25

Lady Blake's Love Letters25

Lone Ranch—By Mayne Reid1 50

The Train Boy—Horatio Alger1 25

Dan, The Detective. Do.1 25

Gospels in Poetry—E. H. Kimball1 50

Me—By Mrs. Spencer W. Coe50

Don Quixote. Illustrated1 00

Arabian Nights. Do.1 00

Robinson Crusoe. Do.1 00

Swiss Family Robinson—Illus1 00

Debatable Land—R. Dale Owen2 00

Threading My Way. Do.1 50

Spiritualism—By D. D. Home2 00

Fanny Fern Memorials—Parton2 00

Northern Ballads—E. L. Anderson1 00

Offenbach's Tour in America1 50

Stories about Doctors—Jeffreson1 50

Stories about Lawyers. Do.1 50

Miscellaneous Novels.

Doctor Antonio—By Ruffini$1 50

Beatrice Cenci—From the Italian1 50

Madame—By Frank Lee Benedict1 50

A Late Remorse. Do.1 50

Hammer and Anvil. Do.1 50

Her Friend Laurence. Do.1 50

Prairie Flower—Emerson Bennett1 50

Jessica—By Mrs. W. H. White1 50

Women of To-Day. Do.1 50

The Baroness—Joaquin Miller1 50

One Fair Woman. Do.1 50

The Burnhams—Mrs. G. E. Stewart2 00

Eugene Ridgewood—Paul James1 50

Braxton's Bar—R. M. Daggett1 50

Miss Beck—By Tilbury Holt1 50

Sub Rosa—By Chas. T. Murray50

Hilda and I—Mrs. Bedell Benjamin1 50

A College Widow—C. H. Seymour1 50

Shiftless Folks—Fannie Smith1 50

Peace Pelican. Do.1 50

Price of a Life—R. Forbes Sturgis1 50

Hidden Power—T. H. Tibbles1 50

Two of Us—Calista Halsey75

Cupid on Crutches—A. B. Wood75

Parson Thorne—E. M. Buckingham1 50

Marston Hall—L. Ella Byrd1 50

Errors—By Ruth Carter1 50

Unmistakable Flirtation—Garner75

Wild Oats—Florence Marryatt1 50

Widow Cherry—B. L. Farjeon25

Solomon Isaacs. Do.50

Doctor Mortimer—Fannie Bean1 50

Two Brides—Bernard O'Reilly1 50

Vesta Vane—L. King, R.1 50

Louise and I—By Chas. Dodge1 50

My Queen—By Sandette1 50

Fallen among Thieves—Rayne1 50

Saint Leger—Richard K. Kimball1 75

Was He Successful? Do.1 75

Undercurrents of Wall St. Do.1 75

Romance of Student Life. Do.1 75

To-day. Do.1 75

Life in San Domingo. Do.1 75

Henry Powers. Banker. Do.1 75

Led Astray—By Octave Feuillet1 50

She Loved Him Madly—Borys1 50

Thick and Thin—Mery1 50

So Fair yet False—Chavette1 50

A Fatal Passion—C. Bernard1 50

Marguerite's Journal—For Girls1 50

Rose of Memphis—W. C. Falkner1 50

Spell-Bound—Alexandre Dumas75

Purple and Fine Linen—Fawcett1 50

Pauline's Trial—L. D. Courtney1 50

The Forgiving Kiss—M. Loth1 75

Loyal unto Death1 50

Charette—An American novel1 50

Fairfax—By John Esten Cooke1 50

Hilt to Hilt. Do.1 50

Out of the Foam. Do.1 50

Hammer and Rapier. Do.1 50

Kenneth—By Miss Sallie A. Brock1 75

Heart Hungry. Mrs. Westmoreland1 50

Clifford Troupe. Do.1 50

Silcott Mill—Maria D. Deslonde1 50

John Maribel. Do.1 50

Conquered—By a New Author1 50

Tales from the Popular Operas1 50

Edith Murray—Joanna Mathews1 50

San Miniato—Mrs. C. V. Hamilton1 00

All for Her—A Tale of New York1 50

All for Him—Author "All for Her."1 50

For Each Other. Do.1 50

Walworth's Novels—Six vols.1 75

Mrs. Mary J. Holmes' Works.

TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE.

ENGLISH ORPHANS.

HOMESTEAD ON HILLSIDE.

'LENA RIVERS.

MEADOW BROOK.

DORA DEANE.

COUSIN MAUDE.

MARIAN GREY.

EDITH LYLE.

DAISY THORNTON. (New).

DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT.

HUGH WORTHINGTON.

CAMERON PRIDE.

ROSE MATHER.

ETHELYN'S MISTAKE.

MILLBANK.

EDNA BROWNING.

WEST LAWN.

MILDRED.

FORREST HOUSE.(New).

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

"Mrs. Holmes' stories are universally read. Her admirers are numberless. She is in many respects without a rival in the world of fiction. Her characters are always life-like, and she makes them talk and act like human beings, subject to the same emotions, swayed by the same passions, and actuated by the same motives which are common among men and women of every day existence. Mrs. Holmes is very happy in portraying domestic life. Old and young peruse her stories with great delight, for she writes in a style that all can comprehend."—New York Weekly. The North American Review, vol. 81, page 557, says of Mrs. Mary J. Holmes' novel, "English Orphans":—"With this novel of Mrs. Holmes' we have been charmed, and so have a pretty numerous circle of discriminating readers to whom we have lent it. The characterization is exquisite, especially so far as concerns rural and village life, of which there are some pictures that deserve to be hung up in perpetual memory of types of humanity fast becoming extinct. The dialogues are generally brief, pointed, and appropriate. The plot seems simple, so easily and naturally is it developed and consummated. Moreover, the story thus gracefully constructed and written, inculcates without obtruding, not only pure Christian morality in general, but, with especial point and power, the dependence of true success on character, and of true respectability on merit." "Mrs. Holmes' stories are all of a domestic character, and their interest, therefore, is not so intense as if they were more highly seasoned with sensationalism, but it is of a healthy and abiding character. Almost any new book which her publisher might choose to announce from her pen would get an immediate and general reading. The interest in her tales begins at once, and is maintained to the close. Her sentiments are so sound, her sympathies so warm and ready, and her knowledge of manners, character, and the varied incidents of ordinary life is so thorough, that she would find it difficult to write any other than an excellent tale if she were to try it."—Boston Banner.

The volumes are all handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold everywhere, and sent by mail, postage free, on receipt of price [$1.50 each], by

G. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers,

Madison Square, New York.