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"Hurrah!" cried Frank. "There, Landon." "Bob ought to know better," cried the professor. "It's impossible that's impossible the whole business is impossible. Can't be done."

He rose, and drawing himself up to his full height looked for the moment strong and resolute. Taking one or two slow turns up and down the room, he suddenly stopped in front of Innocent. "We shall be away all day," he said "I and Ned Landon. Do you hear?" There was something not quite natural in the tone of his voice, and she glanced up at him in a little surprise.

My reading meant more to me than anything else. I was never so happy as when I was sitting humped up over a book, in some obscure corner of the house, where Uncle Landon, now grown the incarnate demon of my life, could not find me.

"But, Landon, old friend," said the Hakim at last, "I am hungry! Surely it is not our fault that the food was stolen if it was." "No, but we should be encouraging the Baggara to go on plundering if we ate these things." "Do you think so really?" said the doctor; and then a change came over the professor's face which made Morris shake his head and attack the much needed food at once.

"Ugh!" grunted cook, with a shudder of disgust. "That was over the veal cutlets," said Sam thoughtfully. "And what did Mr Landon say? He ought to have known better than to talk about such 'orrid stuff over his meals." "Him?" said Sam, with a grin of contempt; "why, he's worse than master." "He couldn't be, Sam." "Couldn't? But he is. Master does talk about live people as he does good to.

Roland, for instance; and in England, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, Sydney Smith, and Horace Walpole, and surely Miss Fanny Burney, and no doubt L. E. L., whose real name was Miss Letitia Elizabeth Landon what conversation they must have delighted their friends with and how instructive it must have been even to sit in the most obscure corner and listen!

"The bell!" exclaimed the doctor. "I hope no poor creature wants me to-night." "So do I," said Landon, "for my own sake as well as for his or hers. I wanted a long chat with you as soon as this tiresome dinner is at an end." "Hark," said the doctor. "Some one has come in.

"Where's Landon?" asked the other man. "I dunno. He's nowhere about this mornin' that I've seen." At that moment a figure came into view, turning the corner of a lane at the end of the scattered thatched cottages called "the village," a portly, consequential-looking figure, which both men recognised as that of the parson of the parish, and they touched their caps accordingly.

She heard the wheels of the dog-cart grating the gravel outside the garden gate, and an affectionate impulse moved her to go and see her "Dad" off. As she made her appearance under the rose-covered porch of the farm-house door, she perceived Landon, who at once pulled off his cap with an elaborate and exaggerated show of respect. "Good-morning, Miss Jocelyn!"

Letitia Elizabeth Landon, too, has embalmed this "pet and plaything of the Temple" in some pleasant stanzas: The fountain's low singing is heard on the wind, Like a melody bringing sweet fancies to mind, Some to grieve, some to gladden: around them they cast The hopes of the morrow, the dreams of the past.