MODERN novels are not as profuse as Victorian ones in the description of libraries in the home. In the last century a library, or at least a study well lined with books, was a necessary proof of the social standing of the hero, but not always of his education. This is not so noticeable in present‐day fiction, perhaps because with the advent of universal education almost every family has its collection of books and consequently the possession of a library does not impress the ordinary reader. To‐day the library is all too frequently considered important only as the scene of some mystery or gruesome murder. There are, however, a few authors, such as Edith Wharton, who reveal their love of reading in their delightful descriptions of books.
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