Miss UNA SILBERRAD's novels are invariably good, and _Cuddy Yarborough's Daughter_ (CONSTABLE), is among the best of them. _Cuddy_ himself is delightfully irresponsible, and I felt a pang of disappointment when he disappeared from the scene, although, considering that he became increasingly lazy and comatose as he grew older, his decease, perhaps, was not premature. Apart from his affability, _Cuddy's_ only claim to distinction lay in the fact that he was the father of his daughter. _Violet's_ lot fell in rather stony places; as a child she was practically the guardian of her own father, and after his death she was governess to the child of a woman as irresponsible as _Cuddy_, but not half so comfortable to live with. Men swarmed round this _Lady Lassiter_, and she loved most of them. Under the circumstances it was fortunate that she had a most unsuspicious and tolerant husband. With no hesitation I recommend the tale of _Cuddy_ and his daughter to the notice of all except the ultra-moderns. But, lest I should fail as a critic if I did no carping, I will say that, though I do not belong to any Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Infinitives, I should like Miss SILBERRAD to look at page 94, where she will find one that is not only split but split to smithereens. * * * * * On the paper wrapper of _Sarah Eden_ (MILLS AND BOON) the publishers themselves call it "a novel of great distinction." Filled as I am with the natural lust of the reviewer to contradict a publisher about his own wares, I am bound to admit that I can find no phrase more apt for the impression this book has made upon me. There is exceptional distinction in the scheme of Miss E. S. STEVENS' story, and there is even more in the grave charm and dignity of its telling. It is the record of the development of a singular and beautiful character; "a spiritual adventure" might have been its sub-title, for the events in _Sarah Eden's_ life were those of mind rather than body. There are two main divisions of the story: in the first we watch _Sarah_ from her beginnings as a quiet introspective child in her Devon home, and through the short course of her unsatisfactory married life. With considerable skill the author has here shown the various forces that were at work building up the heroine's character, and that strange blending of a practical and commanding efficiency with the idealism of a dreamer that exactly fitted her for the part she plays in the second half of her story. The change comes with the sudden death of her husband, and the first of the ecstatic visions that compelled _Sarah Eden_ to leave her native country and prepare a place for her Divine Master in the home of His first coming. Thenceforward the scene is in Jerusalem, where _Sarah_ establishes herself at the head of her strange little company of fanatics. You can see how large is the plan of such a tale; it is one of