For my part, I missed the monuments and the chants, and something besides that had gone--I knew not what.

At the first indication of gloom in me, my father became alarmed, and, after making me stand with my tongue out before himself and Mrs.Waddy, like a dragon in a piece of tapestry, would resume his old playfulness, and try to be the same that he had been in Mrs.Waddy's lodgings.

Then we read the Arabian Nights together, or, rather, he read them to me, often acting out the incidents as we rode or drove abroad.

An omission to perform a duty was the fatal forgetfulness to sprinkle pepper on the cream-tarts; if my father subjected me to an interrogation concerning my lessons, he was the dread African magician to whom must be surrendered my acquisition of the ring and the musty old lamp.

We were quite in the habit of meeting fair Persians.