fate, which is inexorably moulded by the belief of his relatives,
ascendant and descendant, that he must inherit the vices of his father,
a particularly pard-like specimen, and may be expected at any minute to
come out in spots himself. As a matter of fact his only failings were a
young heart and a sense of humour; but, as these qualities were as out
of place in the _Randall_ family as a hornpipe at a funeral, _Dermod_
lives under a perpetual cloud of unmerited suspicion. How he is
compressed into a life groove, of which an ineffably turgid
respectability provides the chronic atmosphere, is the theme of _Grand
Chain_. And because the author possesses a wonderfully delicate gift of
satire and a power of character delineation that never gets out of hand,
she has written a novel deserving of more praise than the usual
reviewer, all too timid of superlatives, may venture to give.
Comparisons in criticism are dangerous, but Miss STERN'S philosophy
strongly calls to mind BUTLER'S _The Way of All Flesh_. At least there
is the same mordant and rather hopeless analysis of the power for evil
in a too complicated world of impeccable people with no sense of humour.
And in _Dermod's_ case the effect is heightened by the feeling that if
he had really been the irresponsible creature he was suspected of being
he would have come much nearer to controlling his own destinies. He
sowed a decent regard for his obligations, and reaped a perfect
whirlwind of well-to-do respectability. _Grand Chain_ is a really
remarkable novel, and no discriminating reader will overlook it.

* * * * *

Was it not Mr. ALBERT CHEVALIER who used to sing some hortatory lyrics
upon the inadvisability of introducing your donah to a pal? Something of
this sort, _mutatis mutandis_ in the matter of sex, might stand as the
moral of _That Red-headed Girl_(JENKINS). Because no sooner had _Julia_,