arger
and finer, and on a handsomer street. The back parlor was nicely, even
luxuriously, furnished with that dainty mixture of elegance and home
comfort which betokens a refined and cultivated taste. Winny had grown
into a tall young lady with coils of smooth brown hair in place of the
crisp locks of her childhood. Her crimson dress set off her clear dark
complexion to advantage. The round table was drawn directly under the
gaslight, and she sat before it surrounded by many beautiful books and
writing material. She glanced up at Theodore's entrance, and he
addressed her in grave business-like tones:

"Winny, do you know it is two o'clock? You should not study so late at
night under any circumstances."

"You should not perambulate the streets until morning, and then you
would have no knowledge of my misdemeanors," answered Winny in exactly
the same tone, and added: "What poor drunken wretch have you and Jim in
train to-night?"

"Is Jim here?" said Theodore, eagerly.

"Yes, and has been for an hour. He stumbled up stairs with a poor victim
who was unable to walk, and domiciled him in your room. Remarkable
company you seem to keep, Mr. Mallery. Who is the creature?"

"The heir of Hastings' Hall," said Theodore, briefly and sadly.

Winny looked both startled and shocked

"Oh, Theodore! not Pliny Hastings?"

"Yes, Pliny Hastings. The admiration of half the young ladies in the
city, and they are industriously helping him to be what he is.
Good-night, Winny. Don't, for pity's sake, study any later," and
Theodore ran lightly up stairs and entered his own room on tiptoe. The
room was utterly unlike Tode Mall's early dream. No square of red and
green and yellow carpet adorned the spot in front of the bed--instead a
soft thick carpet of mossy green covered the floor, and Theodore had
pleased himself in gathering many a dainty trifle with which to
beautify this one room that he called home. To-night the drop-light was
carefully shaded, and in the dimness Theodore had to look twice before
he distinguished McPherson mounted on guard in the rocking-chair beside
the bed, while on it lay, sunken in heavy sleep, Pliny Hastings.

"Well!" was Theodore's brief greeting.

"Yes!" was Jim's equally laconic reply.

"What did you think had become of me that I could not attend to my own
business?" asked Theodore, dropping wearily into the nearest chair.

"Tommy said you were putting three policemen in jail, or something."

"It wa