Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett is one of the most charming among Americanwriters. There is a crisp and breezy freshness about her delightfulnovelettes that is rarely found in contemporaneous fiction, and a closeadherence to nature, as well, that renders them doubly delicious. Of allMrs. Burnett's romances and shorter stories those which first attractedpublic attention to her wonderful gifts are still her best. She has donemore mature work, but never anything half so pleasing and enjoyable.These masterpieces of Mrs. Burnett's genius are all love stories of thebrightest, happiest and most entertaining description; lively, cheerfullove stories in which the shadow cast is infinitesimally small comparedwith the stretch of sunlight; and the interest is always maintained atfull head without apparent effort and without resorting to theconventional and hackneyed devices of most novelists, devices that theexperienced reader sees through at once. No more sprightly novel than"Theo" could be desired, and a sweeter or more beautiful romance than"Kathleen" does not exist in print, while "Pretty Polly Pemberton"possesses besides its sprightliness a special interest peculiar toitself, and "Miss Crespigny" would do honor to the pen of any novelist,no matter how celebrated. "Lindsay's Luck," "A Quiet Life," "The Tide onthe Moaning Bar" and "Jarl's Daughter" are all worthy members of thesame collection of Mrs. Burnett's earlier, most original, best andfreshest romances. Everybody should read these exceptionally bright,clever and fascinating novelettes, for they occupy a niche by themselvesin the world's literature and are decidedly the most agreeable, charmingand interesting books that can be found anywhere.
CHAPTER I. PREPARING FOR A JOURNEY
CHAPTER II. THE ARRIVAL
CHAPTER III. THE MEETING
CHAPTER IV. THEO'S DIARY
CHAPTER V. THE SEPARATION
CHAPTER VI. THEO GOES TO PARIS
CHAPTER VII. "PARTING IS SWEET SORROW"
CHAPTER VIII. THEO'S FIRST TROUBLE
CHAPTER IX. WHAT COMES OF IT ALL
A heavy curtain of yellow fog rolled and drifted over the waste ofbeach, and rolled and drifted over the sea, and beneath the curtain thetide was coming in at Downport, and two pair of eyes were watching it.Both pair of eyes watched it from the same place, namely, from theshabby sitting-room of the shabby residence of David North, Esq.,lawyer, and both watched it without any motive, it seemed, unless thatthe dull gray waves and their dull moaning were not out of accord withthe watchers' feelings. One pair of eyes—a youthful, discontented blackpair—watched it steadily, never turning away, as their owner stood inthe deep, old-fashioned window, with both elbows r