The White Hen. By Phyllis Campbell. (Mills and Boon. 7s.
6d. net.)—This book is most arresting to the English reader, although as fiction it is full of faults, having an invincible senti- mentality and a fairy tale quality which together make it read very unlike real life. The date is 1919, and the place is a country house in France, to which has come a ducal family whose Alsatian chdteau has been destroyed. These people are repre- sented at the beginning of the book as living in absolute penury, and this is not held to be a surprising event, but is taken as a matter of course for any family whose possessions were over- run by the Germans. It is quite true that in England our manner of life is less elaborate than it was before the war, but we do not see our country squires making their own beds and living under conditions which give them hardly enough to eat and leave them cold for want of fuel. The book should be read by all those who think that the sacrifices made by Brita'n in the war are comparable to the sacrifices made by France. A series of quite incredible events restore the family of the Duke de Crequy to riches, but unless a combination of an American millionaire, a genius for sculpture, and the discovery of a hoard of marvellous jewels can be sure to occur, there must be more families in France living under conditions of penury than is at all realized • Peregrine in Love. By C. Fox Smith. London: Hodder and Stoughton. 178. Od. net.]
here. The figures of the ridiculous Duchess and her white hen are decidedly entertaining, but the whole interest lies in the circumstances which are the aftermath of war in an invaded country.
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