Clarice shivered a good deal as she found herself in the pretty little sitting-room of the inn, alone for the first time with her lover. She

did not as yet feel the effects of the shower, for she had thrown a little waterproof cape over her shoulders long ere the storm had spent its fury; and, pale as the white bloom of the nar

cissus, she now leant thoughtfully against the

mantelpiece. Dudley ordered biscuits and wine, and insisted on Clarice drinking some. He swallowed off a couple of glasses of sherry himself, and rose superbly to the situation. For the present wooing should suffice.

44 4

'Won't you take off your hat, Clarice?' he asked, rising and standing by her side. I'm sure it must be soaked through with the rain. We shall have to remain here an hour at the least, if we wish to escape it on our return journey.'

"For the first time Clarice recollected those

who were waiting for her at home. She started as one roused from a drugged stupor, and drew her hand over her eyes; and with the action her black, wavy hair, loosened from its braid by the ride, and always too heavy for the fetters of comb and hair pins, fell over her shoulders in a damp, rippling mass.

The flower in Dudley's button-hole was a good deal the worse for the rain, but he drew it from his coat and playfully fastened it in those ebon locks, while he rested one arm round Clarice's waist, and by degrees, and almost without her knowing it, pressed his lips

to hers.

"Have you not promised to be my own darling wife?' he cried, as she struggled to escape his caresses.

"The joy was too exquisite. Clarice knew she must resist, or love would speedily assume a form of intoxication.

"'Yes,' she answered, detecting a faint reproach in his tones.

"He released her at once, almost coldly. 66 'If you really loved me, Clarice,' he said, slowly, you would not shrink from my embrace-I, who have loved you too well for my peace.'

"Clarice feared he was aggrieved, and that

she had wounded him. She laid her hand in his and came nearer. All her calmness, her queenly dignity and grace, had vanished. She fancied she must die if he were harsh or scorned

her.

And then the tears came. Dudley rather disliked the weeping' form of woman, but he now trusted in her natural weakness of character to save him from the deadly snare awaiting him. He must play a desperate game if he would be free.

"I know it's awfully silly to cry,' sobbed poor Clarice, burying her face in her hands, and leaning over the table, but I've been thinking so much of you for days and, never sleep. ing, I've got quite nervous. And then you seem to doubt me. It-it makes me wish II was dead.'

After such exquisitely refined lovemaking as this it is not surprising that Clarice is easily won to consent to a secret marriage; but it must be confessed

that it is somewhat startling to find that the haughty and aristocratic Dudley is taken by a vulgar detective at the church door and carried off with a promise of fifteen years' penal servitude. The last page of the London Reader is given up week by week to correspondence, by far the greater number of the paragraphs being matrimonial advertisements of the kind to be found in the London Journal. It would seem that the conductors of both journals act as go-betweens in this peculiar commerce of the sexes, receiving letters, forwarding cartes, and effecting introductions.

་་

Bow Bells is a paper which has a somewhat higher aim than either of those last referred to. The stories are not very wise, but they are not quite such unmingled trash as that which is offered to the maidservants and footmen who read the London Journal and its rival. The fiction is varied with short articles on subjects of general interest-unfortunately not always very accurate either in point of fact or of grammar. Thus, for example, in an article on Hawarden Castle we are told that that estate "has descended to Mr. Gladstone's eldest son'a statement which is not quite correct at present. Again :-" There is something of an analogy to be drawn between the first of the family and he (sic) who now sways the destinies of Hawarden Castle," from which it would appear that the writer is is a descendant of Sir John Glynne. under the impression that Mr. Gladstone Similiar mistakes may be detected by any one who takes the trouble to look for them, in almost every page. leading feature of the paper is, however, less its fiction or its essays than its papers on the fashions and on dressmaking generally, which are edited by " Madame Elise. Another characteristic feature is the publication in each number of a piece of music-a song or a trifle for the pianoforte of moderate difficulty. It is perhaps hardly necessary to say that a column is devoted to chess, and another to riddles, charades, and puzzles generally. From time to time supplements consisting of patterns for dress and fancy work are issued. On the whole it may be admitted that Bow Bells is an exceedingly good specimen of the penny weekly paper. Nothing

"

The

appears in its pages which might not be read by the most refined of women, while the needlework and household columns must be valuable to the class for which they are designed. It may be added that, although correspondents are answered, there is a marked absence in the column devoted to them of the objectionable matrimonial advertisements which figure elsewhere. Judging from the published answers, however, the edi-, tor would seem to have abundant opportunities afforded to him for gauging the depths of human folly, e.g. :

“DOUBTER (Edinburgh), is respectfully advised that after having sent us four folios relative to the flirtations of the young lady, his best course would be to think no more of her; but as to his final question, whether a woman can make a man love her quicker than a man can make a woman love him?'-well, that's a riddle, as Lord Dundreary would say, 'no fellow can answer.'"

Another paper of the same type, which enjoys a tolerably large circulation among young women of the lower class, is the Family Reader, now in the tenth year of its existence. This print is of the same size as the London Journal, and is usually adorned with three engravings to each number, all of the somewhat exaggerated type to, which reference has already been made. The stories, like those of its prototype, are invariably of the most exalted and most fashionable personages, and the sentiments of the intensest kind. Thus in one story, "At the Eleventh Hour," the Lady Fay

meets her lover:

"It so happened that morning she was obliged to drive to a great publishing office in the West End; she had business there which she did not care to entrust to any one else; and as she stood in the large, beautiful shop, which was like a museum of art, Clive had entered. When she saw him her face burned as though it would never grow cool again; her eyes flashed their sweetest welcome to him; her hands trembled. It seemed to her that her whole soul sank with the sweetness of his pres

ence."

She invites him to a tête-à-tête (sic) dinner with terrible results :

It was well, yet ill for her that she did not see the man she loved after she had left him, when the light and joy that her presence caused him had in some measure died away; great drops of anguish stood on his brow, his strong frame trembled, his strong white hands were tightly clenched, his lips white with strong emotion and pain."

It is the same key always. Thus in another tale of the same number, " Paul and Olivia," the blind hero has proposed marriage to a girl who does not care for him :

He never remembered how that day passed, because of the intense fever of love which was upon him; never before had he known such excitement; he wandered from place to place, but all alike were haunted by her presence; he sat down to the organ, but when his fingers pressed the keys, it was her voice which seemed to ring out upon the stillness. His hands trembled, his heart beat nearly to suffocation, his temples throbbed. Oh, the madness, the sweet madness which had fallen upon him!

Everything was dreamlike. Esther Emmerson came and talked with him, but of what he said in reply he was scarcely conscious. Dinner was served, and he ate thereof, knowing nothing of what he tasted; evening wore on, Esther played and sang for him; even that did not disturb that dreaminess which enfolded him; voice and music came to him as part of a vision.

"Is this a dream?

Then waking would be pain:

Ah! do not wake me, let me dream again.' "Those were the words which Esther sang sang with passion and feeling, which thrilled him through and through, because they seemed the cry of his own soul. He was dreaming, and the dreaming was sweet-sweet! Other words she sang, but those alone made themselves clear to him.

"Was it a dream that he had whispered to Olivia of his love for her-his desire to make

her his wife? If it were, then let him so continue to dream for all time."

Forty-two columns of stories of this kind, and a column or two of miscellaneous cuttings lead up to the inevitable three columns of "Answers to Correspondents," almost the whole of which are addressed to young women. These columns very clearly show to what class the Family Reader addresses itself, exactly as in the case of the correspondence of the London Journal and the London Reader. The correspondents of this paper are obviously milliners' apprentices, and the "young ladies" who serve behind the counters, who seem to consider the editor as their guide, philosopher, and friend in ordinary. in the number before us "Clytie" is informed that "an apprentice in a millinery shop would be expected to carry parcels if the porters were absent.

66

Thus

Mary Russell" learns that as she writes well and spells correctly, she might be able to undertake the duties of

66

66

All these papers issue monthly supplements. Those of the Family Herald, London Journal, and London Reader take the form of novellettes, each the size of an ordinary number of the paper, and of the type of those with which their readers are familiar. The Family Reader gives a "Fashion Supplement," containing paper patterns of articles of dress, and a plate of the fashions," designed expressly by a leading French artist, and Bow Bells issues every month elaborate supplements of the same kind. In addition to these, a series of stories appears monthly under the title of Bow Bells Novelettes. These are printed in a large quarto size, in double columns, and with three engravings apiece. It is hardly necessary to say that these stories concern only the most illustrious personages, and equally unnecessary to add that they are of the most astounding silliness. This last quality unfortunately clings to the whole list of "family" and illustrated" novelettes, of which a multitude pour from the press from week to week and from month to month. Thus the specimen of the Bow Bells 1 Novelette now before us in No. 75, and bears the title "Firm as Fond; or, Love's Victory." The hero, Lord Bidlington, has picked up a young artist, Miss Juliana Altingham, whom he maintains in great splendor by the simple device of buying such pictures as she produces at an enormous price, through the intervention of a convenient picturedealer. The said picture-dealer, Brashford, falls in love with the artist, and asks Lord Bidlington's assistance, whereupon his lordship awakes to the fact that he is in love with her himself. A Mr. Darmontel, the professor who had taught what little she knew to Juliana, enters upon the scene, and becomes the Deus ex machina through whose intervention the lovers are united, in spite of the efforts of the villain of the piece-Sir Jocelyn Jerningham--to seduce the lady with his wealth. The story is typical of the class to which it belongs. The

upper classes are in the minds of these writers superhumanly wicked or as superhumanly virtuous; the principal occupation of the former division is the corruption of virtuous girls of lower rank than their own, and the chief delight of the virtuous aristocracy is in raising poor, but honest and beautiful girls to their own level by marrying them. On these lines the tales published in the Illustrated Family Novelist, the Illustrated London Novelette, the Family Novelette, and the Lady's Own Novelist, are usually built. Occasionally an author who has obtained some reputation in other ways, such as Miss Annie Thomas, Mr. George Manville Fenn, and Miss Florence Marryatt, may be induced to contribute a story, but as a general rule the tales are written by persons whose principal qualification would seem to be a most astounding ignorance of the life. they pretend to depict.* Thus in "Firm as Fond," the hero-a peer-is spoken. of indifferently as Lord Bidlington and Lord Charles Bidlington, while "Lord Delmar's Vow"-the 104th number of the Illustrated Family Novelist-turns upon the efforts of Viscount Delmar to induce his nephew, the heir to the title and estates, to break the entail." This said nephew is a third-class clerk in a government office, and lives in lodgings in the Euston Road. He eventually marries his landlady's daughter, though not until he has signed a deed by which the mysterious operation of "breaking the entail" is effected, and thereby reduced himself to poverty and a brain-fever. Of course in the end all comes right, the high-minded hero buying the mysterious deed from a butler, who had stolen it, and Lord Delmar, dying without a will, Hugh succeeds to the title and estates. The extraordinary ignorance betrayed by such a story as this is only equalled by the innocence with which the writer makes the future peer of the realm marry his landlady's daughter.

The Weekly Budget is a journal which belongs to this class, and which, though not so frequently seen in London as

* That this ignorance is only natural may be inferred from the fact that a friend of the present writer, a senior assistant in the Brit

ish Museum, has in his service a housemaid whose father writes novels for a Fleet Street

publisher from ten to four daily.

some of its rivals, circulates to the extent of about half a million of copies weekly. With certain offshoots it is perhaps one of the most valuable newspaper properties in existence. It owes its origin to a somewhat curious circumstance. When the proprietors of the Manchester Guardian determined upon a daily issue of their paper they were naturally anxious to feel sure of their ground. An employé of theirs, a Mr. Henderson, was sent accordingly among the towns of North Lancashire and the neighboring counties to establish agencies. He speedily found, however, that in those remote districts there was little, if any, demand for a daily paper. What was wanted was a weekly paper which, while giving a certain amount of news, should contain a considerable proportion of light amusing reading. To a great extent that demand is now met by the weekly supplements published by such papers as the Manchester Courier and the Leeds Mercury; but long before they assumed their present form the Weekly Budget came into existence, and for twenty years it has enjoyed an extensive circulation among the working classes in all parts of the country. About one half of the paper is occupied with news and with comments upon it from the moderate Liberal point of view; the greater part of the remainder consists of serial stories of the London Journal type, of which four are usually running at once. Three or four columns are devoted to answers to correspondents, and this part of the paper is evidently most popular. Medical questions are answered and advice is given by a physician; a barrister replies to queries on legal matters, and the editorial staff deal with general topics. It should be added that the recommendations appear to be very simple and very sensible, while the political matter is commendably free from rancor and violence.

One and All is the title of a new candidate for public favor. It describes itself as a "journal for everybody," and is edited by Mr. George R. Sims, a young littérateur of more than common ability, who has favorably distinguished himself in many ways. His magazine is worthy of his reputation. The tales are bright and readable, free from the affectations and the follies of the romances

And

of high life of the other weeklies. in addition to the fiction there is a provision of more solid matter in the shape of well written and intelligent essays contributed by authors of reputation and capacity. It is, perhaps, rather unwise in a paper of this kind to allow so much latitude to the expression of political opinion. Everybody does not admire Mr. Bradlaugh and his political principles quite so much as Mr. Sims.

Literature for boys is a very important feature of the penny press. There are some fourteen or fifteen papers published for their amusement every week, with a total circulation of at least a million and a half. It is somewhat melancholy to have to add that, with few exceptions, these papers are silly and vulgar in the extreme, and that two or three are positively vicious. The best and wholesomest of them all is unquestionably the Union Jack, which started on its career some twelve months ago, under the editorial care of the late Mr. W. H. G. Kingston, whose name is wonderfully popular-and deservedly so with all boys. In the course of a short time Mr. Kingston, in consequence of the pressure of other engagements, retired and his place was taken by Mr. Henty, the wellknown special correspondent of the Standard. As might be expected, the paper has, under such management, taken a very high place. The stories are excellently written, in a thoroughly manly tone, and the moral inculcated is never obtrusively thrust forward. No boy can be the worse for reading the Union Jack, and most boys will be improved. Much the same thing may be said of the Boy's Own Paper, which is published by the Religious Tract Society. The tales are very good, though somewhat weaker and slighter than those of the Union Jack, but any defect in this way is made up for by excellent articles on natural history, cricket, boat-sailing, bees and bee-keeping, and similar subjects. A paper which numbers among its contributiors writers of the standing of the Rev. J. G. Wood, Dr. Grace the cricketer, Jules Verne, W. H. Harris, and Miss Fyvie Mayo cannot but be successful, and it is gratifying to know that the paper enjoys a very large circulation. More recently a Girl's Own Paper has been issued by the same society, and being modelled on