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Updated: June 18, 2025
She turned away and threw herself down on the floor in front of the tree and buried her face in her hands bursting into tears. It was Christmas morning and she was all alone. Words by Music by CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY. ALSOP LEFFINGWELL. Moderato. The Stars look down On David's town, While angels sing in Winter night; The shepherds pray, And far away, The Wise Men follow Guiding light.
Without going over too carefully the upward path which led to the post of their country's representative at the court of St. James, neither had the slightest doubt that Randolph Leffingwell would tread it.
An event of Christmas, after church, was the dinner of which Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary and Honora partook with Cousin Eleanor Hanbury, who had been a Leffingwell, and was a first cousin of Honora's father.
That dinner set, somehow, was always an augury of festival when, on the rare occasions Aunt Mary entertained, the little dining room was transformed by it and the Leffingwell silver into a glorified and altogether unrecognizable state, in which any miracle seemed possible. Honora pushed back her chair. Her lips were parted. "Oh, Aunt Mary, is it really true that I am going?" she said.
"Will you tell me one thing, please?" pleaded Anne Leffingwell desperately. "Have you ever been examined for this sort of thing?" "Not yet. But then, you see, I'm only a beginner. This is my first attempt. I'll get better as I go on." "Will you please crank my car?" requested Anne Leffingwell faintly. Not until they reached Our Square did they speak again.
Merely to take up the pen was to pass magically through marble portals into the great world itself. The Sir Charles Grandison of this novel was, needless to say, not Peter Erwin. He was none other than Mr. Randolph Leffingwell, under a very thin disguise. Two more years have gone by, limping in the summer and flying in the winter, two more years of conquests.
"I have always understood, Miss Leffingwell, that the king of beasts was somewhere near the shade of the jungle." Honora laughed in spite of this apparent refutation of her theory of his apparel, and shook her head. "Do be serious, Peter. You'd make much more of an impression on people if you wore clothes that had well, a little more distinction."
Spence made a remark sotto voce which should, in the ordinary course of events, have remained a secret. "Susan," he said, "your friend Miss Leffingwell is a fascinator. She's got Robert's scalp, too, and he thought it a pretty good joke because I offered to teach her to play golf this afternoon." It appeared that Susan's eyes could flash indignantly. Perhaps she resented Mr.
Thomas Leffingwell, one of the settlers at Saybrook, "an enterprizing, bold man, loaded a canoe with beef, corn, and peas, and under cover of night paddled from Saybrook" around into the mouth of the Thames, or Pequot, River and succeeded in getting the provisions into the fort without the knowledge of the Narragansetts.
Chiltern," he said, "and it is a pleasure to be able to serve you, and the lady who is so shortly to be your wife. Your servant arrived with your note at four o'clock. Ten minutes later, and I should have missed him." And then Honora heard Chiltern saying somewhat coldly: "In order to save time, Mr. White, I wish to tell you that Mrs. Leffingwell has been divorced " The Reverend Mr.
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