In "The Hilltop on the Marne" Mildred Aidrich had something to say and said it well. In "On the Edge of the War Zone" she appears to have nothing of much moment to write of and she only succeeds in being tiresome. One suspects that the success of the earlier work led to a call for more "copy," with an unhappy result. The hilltop is now back of the French line and little seems to happen there except as soldiers pass to and fro along the road. The days go by in comparative monotony, and the intimate details of household affairs fill up many weary pages. With so many interesting stories of war to be told one can only regret this long-drawn-out, gossipy chronicle of small happenings. The Dial, 1918.
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