The Birmingham age-herald., 1909-07-25
Literary Lights and Shadohs
BY s. MAYS BALL

Author not stated. (Harper & Bros.)
 There has been much discussion since the first instaIime>>of of ''The Inner Shrine appeared in Harper's pubncations-letters written to the press and much of that sort of thing which has not at all dimin- ished since the appearance of the novel in book form from Harper's press-as to who wrote the book.
 Guesses as to this and that author. Mrs. Edith Wharton, Mrs. Humphry Ward and so on, and so forth. to which the pub fisher replied, incidentally but unconsci- ously (of course) advertising the book that no one had yet hit the bulls eye. In the first place the book needs no ad- vertisement, other than We are adver- tised by our loving friends" and, secondly. what difference does 1t make who wrote so charming, so delightful production, other than the qualification of the reading publics curiosity? If an author who can and did produce so distinctive, strong and vigorous novel, combined with tenderness, sweetness and crystal clear ness as "The Inner Shrine," without giv- ing his or her name, why let's permit 1t to go at that or as MT. Eden Phillpotts or MT. John Trevena would say in their great Dartmoor romances: Let 'em bide"
 The story deals with a charming young woman living in Paris, born to the man ner of Irish and French parents, who married an expatrtated American with much money. The latter, together with his wife-both living in Paris with the husbands mother-went the pace, we Americans unfamiliar with Parisian social life cannot quite understand.
 Sufficeth to say that Diane Eveleth" was talked about. Her husband lost his money and in aduel, ostensbly to protect 14a. 1.4 had fired into the air, put bullet into his own brain. The husbands opponent in the duel had lied about Mrs Eveleth. Left in a poverty-stricken condition, Diane, secretly, with the assistance of an old banker of Paris. transfers her "dot,' still safe, to her mother-in-law, after which both women go to New York to begin new life and if possible build better than they had in the past
 The principal portion of the book deals with Diane's struggles in New York. Not the usual mortgage-on-the-home or pur- sued-by-a-designing- employer struggle, but that of gentleman whose name had been taken in vain by a scoundrel, who, under his ideas of Parisian honor" once hav- ing lied, declined to set Diane right in the eyes of the world. That Is the story in nutshell, to wit. Diane's purity ma- ligned, all suffering but ever struggling without The Inner Shrine" to place her. self properly before the social world, to which she had been introduced when she arrived in New York.
 Diane was employed by one Derek Pruyn, a banker, a stubborn ass, self opionated, sanctimonious, canting hypocrite (of which there are more than '57 varities' in this old world), to ohaperon his young daughter. A trip to South America, Just after Derek had. asked Diane to marry him-and she had asked for time-brings Derek in touch with Marquise de Bien- vile, the man who had lied about Diane and fought the duel with her husband in Paris. Bienville, "after 8 or 10'' no doubt, Derek and told Dianes story. still lying, but without the mention of any names It wasn't necessary to mention names to Derek-wasn't he a banker, a man of the world, up to the minute product of New York? Certainly.
 Then begin, upon Dereks return to New York, Dfanes real troubles. For she will not defend herself; Bienville has lied; also he has come to New York to marry a rich girl. This rich girl Is the god-from the machine and in the end forces Bienville to tell the truth; to admit that he was liar, horse thief and few other things.
 When Bienville was fe-ced, with his back against the wall, he said:
 .I must do myself the justice to say that the wrong of which I wss guilty has it's origin, at the first, In sort of inadvert- enoe. I had no intention of doing any one irreparable harm. I was taking part in a game. hut I meant to play 1t fairly. The lady of whom I speak CDiane) would bear me out when I say that the people among whom she and I were born-in France, in Paris-engage in this game as a sort of sport and we call it love- It isn't love in any of the senses in which you understand 1t here. We give 1t meaning of our own.
 Then he tells of Dianes mingling with the French people, unspotted, and the wish of the society folk In Paris, if pos sible, to catch her in a wrong.
 '"There was but ore impulse among us, to catch her in a fault, to make her no better than ourselves. One man after another confessed himself defeated. Then canO my turn. wasn't merely defeat ed: was put to utter rout. with ridi- cule and scorn. That was too much for me. couldn't stand 1t; and-and-I He'd"
 And all the timc this recital of his loved ones wrongs was going on apace-the holding back Of which by Bienville had caused Dereks suffering for three years and unhappiness all around-did Derek kill the scoundrel% Not at all. He made a move at Btenville, but cooler heads prevailed, as they do sometimes.
 One of the notes running through the book is the fact that Derek never told Dlduo Cudl HC lOVou lcT l WdIll you TOT my wife," was the continual burden of his slogan. Now at the end he awakes from his slurnber at the switch to tell his love.
 Why didn't you tell me before?" she found strength to say.
 '-Tell you, Diane? What was the use of telling you, when you knew. My life has been open for you to look into as you would"
 "Yes. but not to go into. There's only of all-the word you've just spoken. A woman knows nothing till she hears it.
 She smiles faintly.
 q am asking what you'll do?' he re- peatsd.
 If you insist upon my telling you that" she said, glancing up at him shyly, 'Ill say that-since the inner shrine is un- locked-TI go in."
 And we are to suppose, for the book ends there, that Diane does enter "the inner shrine"
 whether the book was written by Nick Carter, w. D. Howells, George Barr McCutcheon. Upton Sinclair or o. Henry, 1t Is a great one. No wonder people have been talking of this novel, as they haven't of any other in such a long time. -~The Inner Shrine" Is treat, 8 delight, but how any one could produce such novel, then not put his or her name on the title page-well, this is strange old world and no mistake. "rrue Detective Stories," by A L. Drum
 mond former chief United States secret
 service. co. w. Dillingham; Co.)
 There are IT detective stories, all said to