Midway in his path, a figure lying p.r.o.ne in the tall gra.s.s roused itself into action at his coming, sprang up and stood facing him, flushed, defiant, and on the verge of tears.

It was the last person in the world Stanley wished to see--Belle Fitzgerald. He had felt it was impossible to meet her again; that she had put herself beyond the pale of his recognition; that it was not even decent that she should face him; that he should have been left to forget; and she, seeing all this in his face, and more--longed to throw her good resolutions to the winds, and cry out against this great injustice. But as they stood there, her subtle woman's instinct told her that, even were her innocence proclaimed with the trumpet, the thought that it had been otherwise would stand between them as an insurmountable barrier for ever, and she hardened her heart for his sake.

"You are going away," she said.

"Yes," he replied, looking down at the road. She told herself pa.s.sionately, that he would look anywhere rather than at her.

"Some of your property has come into my possession," he said. "I wish to return it to you," and he handed her the receipt for the forty thousand pounds.

"I'll trust you'll see," he continued, in a strained voice, "that Colonel Darcy has his proper share."

"He shall have what he deserves," she replied coldly; and then she burst out, her words tumbling one over the other, now that she had found speech: "You ought to know, you must know, that when Colonel Darcy is free, we shall be man and wife."

"I'm very glad," he said, and he said it from his heart.

There was an awkward pause, neither seemed able to speak. At length he remarked, more to break the silence than anything:--

"You know, I always thought, that, in your heart, you loved Darcy, before anyone else."

She laughed her hard, cold laugh, saying:--

"You diplomats know everything."

The Secretary bowed silently and pa.s.sed on, well satisfied to close the interview; his thoughts full of the brilliant future which was opening before him, unconscious that behind him, face down in the gra.s.s, a woman was sobbing her heart out.

The Dollar Library of American Fiction

TWO GUINEAS, post free, for a SUBSCRIPTION of Twelve Volumes, or separately in special binding at 4d. per Volume.

The American Copyright Act, during its nine years' life, has been of the greatest benefit to American fiction, if not to American literature in general. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that America drew her chief supplies of fiction from England up to the year '91, because the earlier school of American writers, however distinguished, had a comparatively limited circle of readers, and could not be considered to counterbalance the enormous vogue of English writers. The Act changed little at first, and English books continued to have the greatest popularity, but this popularity was soon encroached upon by the rivalry of indigenous fiction. To-day there are in America, American authors whose books have circulations compared to which even those of the most popular modern English authors are as nothing. Several books have recently attained to circulations of upwards of a quarter of a million copies, and new authors of merit are eagerly welcomed, not only from the East but also from the West, from big centres, and from quieter and remoter places; giving actual proofs of America's new and remarkable literary activity.

More striking than the greatest of these successes--for popular successes are frequently scored by mediocre talents--is the fact that a school of young American writers is pressing for recognition, gifted with the sense of form, and not wanting either in pathos or in humour--real delineators of life and character. And what an inexhaustible field lies ready for them, to depict--if they will only depict justly--the actual life of America, of the most variedly composite and interesting people the modern world knows!

Inspired possibly at first by several exceptional men who stood on the threshold of this new literary development, there is now growing up a school of writers of talent to whom respect cannot be denied and whom we can no longer afford to ignore in England.

=The Dollar Library= will give to English readers a representative selection of the best American fiction of the day, and also a few of the best works of two writers who are, perhaps, more than any others, responsible for this new development, for, although both HAROLD FREDERIC and STEPHEN CRANE have in these brief nine years departed from among us, no series representative of American fiction of to-day would be thought complete without them. For the rest The Dollar Library will devote itself mainly to the introduction of hitherto unknown authors, and it appeals to readers particularly as a pioneer. It will afford an opportunity to English readers of gaining an impression of the mercurial genius picturesquely expressing itself on the other side of the Atlantic, of appreciating a new graft on the tree of English Literature, which, transplanted to another clime, bids fair to yield yet another rich and luxuriant growth.

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

[Ill.u.s.tration]

_The following Volumes will appear early in 1901, and others are in preparation. They will appear, as far as practicable, at monthly intervals:--_

THE GIRL AT THE HALFWAY HOUSE.

By E. HOUGH.

PARLOUS TIMES.

By D. D. WELLS.

LORDS OF THE NORTH.

By A. C. LAUT.

THE CHRONIC LOAFER.

By NELSON LLOYD.

HER MOUNTAIN LOVER.

By HAMLIN GARLAND.

The Dollar Library.

_A Monthly Series of American Fiction._

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN.

_And at all Booksellers and Bookstalls._