[Illustration]

The Head of the House of Coombe

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

NEW YORK

Contents

CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX
CHAPTER XXXI
CHAPTER XXXII

CHAPTER I

The history of the circumstances about to be related began many yearsago—or so it seems in these days. It began, at least, years before theworld being rocked to and fro revealed in the pause between each of itsheavings some startling suggestion of a new arrangement of its kaleidoscopicparticles, and then immediately a re-arrangement, and another and another untilall belief in a permanency of design seemed lost, and the inhabitants of theearth waited, helplessly gazing at changing stars and colours in a degree ofmental chaos.

Its opening incidents may be dated from a period when people still had reasonto believe in permanency and had indeed many of them—sometimes throughingenuousness, sometimes through stupidity of type—acquired a singularconfidence in the importance and stability of their possessions, desires,ambitions and forms of conviction.

London at the time, in common with other great capitals, felt itself ratherfinal though priding itself on being muc

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