Equally comical is the spectacle of Mrs. Cavendish, on the eve of the first meeting of the two men, humbly wondering how she could soften the heart of her discontented lord towards the low-born brother--'how lead him to pardon, as it were, his benefactor for having dared to benefit him,' and the subsequent reflection of Cavendish that not only was wealth an acknowledged power, 'even though pork-sausages should have been its alleged first cause,' but that, after all, 'politic members of the great ruling houses in the old world had been known to make concessions to trade,' and he 'was prepared to make concessions too!' Accordingly, he resolved that the meeting with his relative should bear the semblance of cordiality. 'This is a real pleasure, my dear sir,' he said, with ten white fingers--the fingers of thoroughbred hands--closing round Mr. Piper's plebeian knuckles. No onlooker could have supposed for an instant that he had come, with the whole of his family, in an entirely destitute condition, to live upon his wife's brother. Besides, we know that among well-bred people, to receive a favour is virtually to oblige a man. You only accept cordialities from people you esteem.... 'You're welcome, sir,' said Mr. Piper. Then there was a pause, during which Mrs. Cavendish wiped her eyes, and Mr. Piper said very heartily, 'You're welcome, the lot of you.' Cavendish is the only character that the author has treated in a consistently farcical vein. Eila Frost's canting old father-in-law in _Not Counting the Cost_ is made ridiculous in his harangue on the duties of the young wife to her insane husband; but, with this exception, little is said of him in the story. It would seem that Tasma regards broadly humorous exaggeration to be scarcely compatible with her somewhat grave style, for in all the later stories her satire, if not less pungent, is of a quieter kind. Next to their humour and skilful presentation of character, the most noteworthy feature of these novels is their lucid and polished language. The style is, perhaps, scarcely easy enough for fiction. Its qualities and culture are those that equip the essayist or critic rather than the novelist. Indeed, judged by some of her early work in the reviews, and by the little philosophic exordiums with which she opens so many of her chapters, Tasma would have made a brilliant essayist. To a large class of thoughtful readers it will always seem that what her novels lack in dramatic interest is fully compensated for by their more than usually faithful sketches of both men and women, and by their intimate and sympathetic view of our common life. THE END. BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD. _G., C. & CO._