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When we started from Liverpool, in May, 1871, Ralph the Heir was running through the St. Paul's. This was the novel of which Charles Reade afterwards took the plot and made on it a play. I have always thought it to be one of the worst novels I have written, and almost to have justified that dictum that a novelist after fifty should not write love-stories.

And a good many bourgeois marriages have had their beginning to the sound of the band occupying the centre of this circular ballroom. If that roof could speak, what love-stories could it not tell!

Some magazines and weekly papers containing continued love-stories had found their way into the Worthington home. At first they were not attractive to Bessie. She would merely glance through the pages; but she gradually came to overlook the good, substantial reading and to enjoy the part that stimulated the romantic and imaginative part of her nature.

"I'm afeard," says Cap'n Ambuster, "that, when I git a harnsome new skiff, I shall want a harnsome new steamboat, and then the boat will go to cruisin' round for a harnsome new Cap'n." And now for the end of this story. Healthy love-stories always end in happy marriages.

'Nonsense! exclaimed Ida, 'in future I shall always walk in the kitchen garden; the walls are ten feet high, and unless you had a horse that could fly, like Perseus, you would never be able to get at me. 'I will get a flying horse, answered Brian. 'Don't defy me. Remember there are things that have been heard of before now in love-stories, called ladders.

The youth who is familiar with the love-stories of Shakespeare, and George Eliot, and Meredith, will suffer little harm from the gilded sensualism of the Restoration drama. Let us hasten to implant the images of beauty that will keep the soul sweet and wholesome, and free from the taint of any later influences, however sordid these may be." Reasons for Pre-marital Continence of Men

Other people's love-stories are very interesting to me, the more so because I have reached the respectable age of thirty without being the subject of one myself;" and again she laughed, this time at her own falsehood. But, when he had gone, there was no laughter in her eyes, nothing but tears, bitter, burning tears. "Agatha," said Mildred that evening, "I am sick of this place.

But Buddhism claimed for itself the serious side of religion and while it tolerated local godlings treated them as fairies or elves. It was perhaps while Kṛishṇa was a humble rustic deity of this sort, with no claim to represent the Almighty, that there first gathered round him the cycle of light love-stories which has clung to him ever since.

That the love-stories in the heroic poem are without all lyrical tenderness, must be reckoned a merit, though from a moral point of view they cannot always be approved. Yet at times they are of such truth and reality, notwithstanding all ; and romance which surrounds them, that we might think them personal affairs of the poet himself.