The Hill romances are very similar to the Horatio Alger books for boys, in that they have, essentially, one heroine, one theme, and one basic plot. Another similarity is their popularity, world-wide. Originally issued by J.B. Lippincott, they were reprinted by Grosset & Dunlap, and could be found easily on library shelves, unlike Nancy Drew and the other Stratemeyer Syndicate offerings.

When I found the stories, in the early 60's, I thought them terribly quaint; to the modern reader they may seem hopelessly so. Still, there's something about them ... it may be that the author was, simply, sincere in her Christian beliefs. She told one story over and over, but filled out the plot with truly interesting geographical details and wonderful "bad girls." I just loved those bad girls! They were flappers, originally -- with bobbed hair, short skirts, and way too much make-up, and contrasted nicely with our heroines, who were uniformly sweet, brave and Christian.

The heroine, while usually in reduced circumstances, and often tossed out onto the world after the death of a beloved parent, meets the hero and captivates him with her beauty and virtue (and taste -- all Ms. Hill's heroines know how to dress) and the rest of the book chronicles how they arrive at the altar. They may be beset by scheming relatives (on either side), great distance, and those bad girls ... but all the reader has to do is relax and turn the pages toward that happy ending. There is absolutely no doubt as to who are the good guys and who are the bad guys

Ms. Hill's heroes were, generally, the Holy Grail of the working girl -- wealthy, good-natured and well brought-up gentlemen, most of whom instinctively recognize the spiritual qualities and quiet beauty of the heroine as something they want to possess for life. On the very first page of White Orchids, for instance, Jeffrey Wainwright ("a millionaire's son") rescues Camilla Chrystie when her "shabby little roadster" is struck by a "great truck ... with a mighty impact, neatly removing a wheel, and sending the car spinning straight into the air in a series of somersaults." Camilla is rushing to the bedside of her dying mother with the medicine that is her only hope.

"Put her in the back seat of my car!" Jeffrey says graciously. Even the traffic cop recognizes that "there was a genuineness about him ... in spite of the gardenia in his lapel."  In minutes, the already captivated Jeffrey is driving Camilla to rescue her sick mother: "[T]here was something wistful in his glance as he furtively watched the lovely girl by his side."

In Rose Galbraith, the impoverished, recently orphaned Rose meets Gordon McCarroll on board her ship as she's leaving New York to visit relatives in Scotland. As the last call comes for departing guests, "[s]uddenly he stooped and laid his lips on hers in a warm friendly kiss." That's it -- it's only the second chapter, but it's a done deal -- our heroine doesn't kiss the wrong man!

Later, Rose describes Gordon to her sympathetic grandmother in Scotland: "No, grandmother, he's not a lord, though his people are nice Christian people and I think they have a nice home though I've never been in it. ... We never knew each other well ... [b]ut he's a Christian. He likes to hear about family worship, and the church we go to here."

While Rose's venal relatives try to match her up to the pompous, dissipated, and greedy Lord MacCallummore, Gordon's parents worry about the sophisticated young thing who is pursuing their son with all her worldly might. Gordon, however, can't keep Rose out of his mind; "her memory would never be dimmed by the vision of a girl such as Sydney Repplier!"

So, as you can see, these stories really are quaint, and I doubt the wisdom of reading too many of them -- perhaps one every six months or so wouldn't hurt, and in fact, might be beneficial.