“Superior to many of the numerous tales which find a ready sale at the railway bookstall.” Athenaeum.
“There is nothing to fatigue, and something to gratify, the idle reader.” Examiner.
“There is a ring of solid metal in ‘The Waters of Marah.’” Daily Telegraph.
“Miss McQuinch has fairly established her claim to be considered the greatest novelist of the age.” Middlingtown Mercury.
“Replete with thrilling and dramatic incident….. Instinct with passion and pathos.” Ladies’ Gazette.
TABUTEAU & SON, COVENT GARDEN.
“That is very flattering,” said Douglas, as he replaced the paper on the table.
“Highly so,” said Elinor. “Coriolanus displaying his wounds in the Forum is nothing to it.” And she abruptly took the paper, and threw it disgustedly behind the sofa. Just then a message from the kitchen engaged Marian’s attention, and Douglas, to relieve her from her guests for the moment, strolled out upon the little terrace, whither Marmaduke had moodily preceded him.
“Still in your difficulties, Lind?” he said, with his perfunctory air of concern, looking at the garden with some interest.
“I’m out of my difficulties clean enough,” said Marmaduke. “There’s the child among the currant bushes; and I am rid of her mother: for good, I suppose.”
“So much the better! I hope it has not cost you too much.”
“Not a rap. I met her in the museum after our confab on Wednesday, and told her what you recommended: that I must have the child, and that she must go. She said all right, and shook hands. I havnt seen her since.”
“I congratulate you.”
“I dont feel comfortable about her.”