"Upon what principle," one of my Baronites writes, "do people collecting a number of short stories for publication in one volume, select that which shall give the book its title?" Of course I know, but shan't say; am not here to answer conundrums. After interval of chilling silence, my Baronite continues, "Lady LINDSAY has brought together ten stories which A. & C. BLACK publish in a comely volume. She calls it _A Philosopher's Window_, that being the title of the first in the procession. I have looked through the _Philosopher's Window_, and don't see much, except perhaps a reminiscence of _A Christmas Carol_. There are others, far better, notably 'Miss Dairsie's Diary.' This is a gem of simple narrative, set in charming Scottish scenery, which Lady LINDSAY evidently knows and loves. There is much else that is good. 'The Story of a Railway Journey,' and 'Poor Miss Brackenthorpe,' for example. All are set in a minor key, but it is simple, natural music." B. DE B.-W. * * * * * [Illustration: THE HAUNTED HOUSE.] * * * * * THE YOUNG GIRL'S COMPANION. (BY MRS. PAYLEY.) NO. IV.--THE CHOICE OF A HUSBAND. Any woman, my dear young girls, can marry any man she likes, provided that she is careful about two points. She must let him know that she would accept a proposal from him, but she must never let him know that she has let him know. The encouragement must be very strong but very delicate. To let him know that you would marry him is to appeal to his vanity, and this appeal never fails; but to let him know that you have given him the information is to appeal to his pity, and this appeal never succeeds. Besides, you awake his disgust. Half the art of the woman of the world consists in doing disgusting things delicately. Be delicate, be indirect, avoid simplicity, and there is hardly any limit to your choice of a husband. I need say nothing about detrimental people. The conflict between a daughter and her parents on this point--so popular in fiction--very rarely takes place. It is well understood. You may fall in love with the detrimental person, and you may let him fall in love with you. But at present we are talking about marriage. Never marry a man with the artistic temperament. By the artistic temperament one means morbid tastes, uncertain temper and excessive vanity. It may be witty at dinner; it _must_ be snappish at breakfast. It never has any money. In its dress it is dirty and picturesque, unless under the pressure of an occasion. It flirts well, but marries badly. I have described, of course, rather a pronounced case of artistic temperament. But it is hardly safe to marry any man who appreciates things artistic, because, as a rule, he only does it in order that people may appreciate his appreciation; and after a time that becomes wearisome. [Illustration]