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"Your Pa's out a-parishing," said Letitia, bumping down the tray in front of her. "That's a let-off anyhow," said Betty to herself, and she propped up a Stevenson against the tea-pot. After tea parishioners strolled up by ones and twos and threes to change their books at the Vicarage lending library. The books were covered with black calico, and smelt of rooms whose windows were never opened.

There was a knock at the library door, and the groom of the chambers brought in a note for Endymion. He glanced at the handwriting of the address, and then opened it, as pale as his wife. Then he read it again, and then he gave it to her. She threw her eyes over it, and then her arms around his neck. "Order my brougham at three o'clock." Endymion was with his sister.

The man espied him there in the shadow of the vines, and came forward. "Miss Coolidge requests your presence, sir, for a few moments," he said gravely. "Why, certainly; did she say where, Sexton?" "In the library, sir; she is waiting there now." West hesitated an instant. There was a question he was eager to ask, but immediately thought better of it.

The musical library of Handel's English friend Charles Jennens contained a large collection of Scarlatti's manuscripts, and there can be little doubt that it was Handel who brought them with him from Italy.

I reproved him for it; but it did no good. Your father intended to discharge him as soon as he returned from Washington." Christy went to the library, and busied himself in considering whether or not the sudden departure of Walsh had any connection with the mysterious midnight intruder. The two events had been near together in point of time; but he could establish no other relation between them.

"I 'picked it up, as you call it, in the collection of medieval manuscripts of the Harvard Library, and copied it," returned Miss Mannersley coldly as she turned away. But I was not inclined to let her off so easily. I presently made my way to her side.

"Oh, my best! oh, my dearest! pause reflect!" was her mama's cry; but she swept past her in stately silence, passed through the door which Colonel Dent held open, and we heard her enter the library. A comparative silence ensued. Lady Ingram thought it "le cas" to wring her hands: which she did accordingly. Miss Mary declared she felt, for her part, she never dared venture.

"Yes yes," nodded Mr. Elliott in a somewhat disturbed way. "Of course there is a mistake. Officer, please come with me to the library. I wish to look into this affair." "I would like to have Gill Mace and my friend, Ned Foreman, come with us, sir," suggested Frank. "Certainly, Jordan. Charged with robbery! Dear me! Officer, this is a pretty serious action on your part."

He was not in the least hungry; still less did he feel any desire just now to sit about in that library living-room of his. Why should he go home at all? There was no reason whatever save that Alice would be expecting him. Upon reflection, that hardly amounted to a reason.

He had seen the book he wished to refer to in the little study the day before; and he quitted the library to search for it. As he was tumbling over some volumes that lay piled on the writing-table, he felt a student's curiosity to discover what now constituted his host's favourite reading.