"Those who had journeyed many miles began arriving singly, in groups, on foot and horseback, and in lumbering wagons; coming up the hill from the turnpike, down from its summit under cool maples, along the Bristol highway that tapped the Hill road by the schoolhouse, across pastures and fields."-- -Now and then a novel writes itself. Eliza Nelson Blair could no more help writing "'Lisbeth Wilson" than she could help breathing. The story must have been with her night and day, sleeping and waking, until to lay the ghosts she had to put it on paper. The heroine and her lover are separated by a...