“I have some of your blood in me, too,” she said haughtily. “It may be for my good, or for my evil, time will prove, but at least it has given me a stronger constitution than my poor mother’s. Can you not trust me a little?” “There is nothing to confide,” he said, with the lie choking his throat as he spoke. “Your mother has nervous prostration,” he said. “You are in trouble yourself,” the girl said timidly. “Could I not take my mother’s place and help you.” “What makes you think I am in trouble?” he replied impatiently. “Yes, you can easily fill your mother’s place by looking pretty and spending money.” He took out his pocket-book and drew from it a thick bundle of notes. “Take these and spend them on chiffons and candies, and don’t talk nonsense.” Ada pushed away the money. “Women care for something dollars can’t buy, poppa. I’m tired of money and all it is worth.” Her father laughed harshly. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Fate may humour your new craze sooner than you think.” Ada pondered over his words. What did they mean? (_To be continued._) MRS. EWING AND HER BOOKS. Very few persons will now be inclined to question that Mrs. Ewing is the premier story-teller for children of this generation. No library for young people can be considered complete without most of her books. A few of her writings may appeal more fully to older readers; but the majority afford immense delight when placed in the hands of boys and girls. Happily all can now be obtained at low prices. Though Mrs. Ewing wrote no book of great length, the number and variety of her output are considerable. Her stories range from fairy tales with a purpose to books of adventure and domestic incident of all kinds. We get such sketches as _The Brownies_, where two little lads act on the happy suggestion to serve as elfish helpers of their widowed and burdened father, and set to work to brighten the house, not without soon learning that “there is no such cure for untidiness as clearing up after other people; one sees so clearly where the fault lies.” We have such tales as _Timothy’s Shoes_, with the magic shoes which make every step like a galvanic shock when the feet are turned into wrong paths. We have books specifically for older boys and girls: _We and the World_ is full of thrilling adventure; _Six to Sixteen_ embodies a good deal of Mrs. Ewing’s views on education; it traces the quiet development of a girl’s life and thought, and though perhaps the interest flags a little in parts, it will always be popular on account of its description of military life during a cholera epidemic and its charming pictures of Yorkshire hospitality. A girl cannot fail to be the better for reading it. Indeed, there is not one of Mrs. Ewing’s numerous books that does not impart the consciousness of a tenderly sympathetic heart; with her we feel that No simplest duty is forgot; Life hath no dim and lowly spot That doth not in her sunshine share.