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Take my arm, gentle reader, and come with me into some street, perhaps trodden by your daily footsteps, but which now has such an aspect of half-familiar strangeness, that you suspect yourself to be walking abroad in a dream.

With these words he went in advance of the widow into the hall, where Paaker was still walking uneasily up and down. The pioneer bowed low before the Regent, who returned the greeting with a half-haughty, half-familiar wave of the hand, and when he had seated himself in an arm-chair politely addressed Paaker as the son of a friend, and a relation of his family.

Suddenly, however, she became aware that one of the passing shadows remained stationary between her line of vision and the gleaming asphalt; and raising her eyes she saw a young woman bending over her. "Excuse me are you sick? Why, it's Miss Bart!" a half-familiar voice exclaimed. Lily looked up. The speaker was a poorly-dressed young woman with a bundle under her arm.

"It improves you some," he said, but his look only too plainly indicated that there was still much to be desired. We were sitting thus on the doorstep, Uncle Benny with the baby, and I peeling the potatoes, with his blue ribbon tied around my neck, when I heard a half-familiar little scream and laugh, and, looking up, beheld a fashionable company.

With these words he went in advance of the widow into the hall, where Paaker was still walking uneasily up and down. The pioneer bowed low before the Regent, who returned the greeting with a half-haughty, half-familiar wave of the hand, and when he had seated himself in an arm-chair politely addressed Paaker as the son of a friend, and a relation of his family.

Vesey butted into the circle of cipher readers very much as Heffelbauer's "code" would have done, and asked what was up. Some one explained, with the touch of half-familiar condescension that they always used toward him. Vesey reached out and took the cablegram from the m. e.'s hand.

Something in the aspect of the room struck a half-familiar, half-forgotten chord in his brain. He turned the handle of the door of the next room and found a lady seated there. Then he remembered. Filthy and soot-stained as he was, the little sweep flung himself into the arms of the beautiful lady with a cry of "Mother!" Mrs. Montagu had found her lost son.

"He thinks we have been treating Aunt Amy wrongly. He thinks she should be humoured more. His name is Callandar." "Callandar? What an odd name! It sounds half-familiar. I must have heard it somewhere. There is a Dr. Callandar in Montreal, isn't there? A specialist or something." "I think this is the same man. But if it is he, doesn't want it known.

At their houses she rarely saw them, indeed she was not at her ease there, but she knew how to attract them to her own by a coquetry subtly flattering; and in the easy, natural, half-respectful and half-familiar air with which she received them, I thought I saw remarkable address." In a woman of less tact and penetration, this curious vein of hidden vanity would have led to pretension. But Mme.

On the doorstep, with the street before her, she felt a mad throb of liberation, intoxicating as the prisoner's first draught of free air; but the clearness of brain continued, and she noted the mute aspect of Fifth Avenue, guessed at the lateness of the hour, and even observed a man's figure was there something half-familiar in its outline? which, as she entered the hansom, turned from the opposite corner and vanished in the obscurity of the side street.