as
flooded with light, and then she discovered the child.

"My, my! what a start that gave me! That boy here yet! What in the
world shall I do with him? The threatened snow-storm has come and
seems like the beginning of a blizzard. He didn't belong to that
Molly, she said, but of course he can't stay here. I--I--Oh, dear!
Troubles never come singly. I can't keep him all night. I simply
cannot. Yet I wouldn't turn even a dog----"

When Miss Armacost's thoughts reached this point she seemed to see Sir
Christopher looking up into her face suggestively. He had been only a
dog, to be sure, and this was only a street vagabond; yet the
suggestion her mind had received really so staggered the mistress of
the corner house on the Avenue that she suddenly sat down and clasped
her hands in nervous trepidation.

"What--what--if I should--actually do it! What would the neighbors
say!"

"Ma'am?" asked the waif, drowsily, sitting up and regarding his
surroundings with surprise. "I--I--Where am I at?"

"At--home, my child," answered Miss Lucy, with a gasp at her own
daring.

CHAPTER II.

CONFLICTING IDEAS.

Towsley was now fully awake; and, what was better, he seemed to have
lost his shyness during his nap.

"Um'm. Home. That's where folks live that has 'em. This is yours, I
s'pose. Well, I'm much obliged to you, ma'am, and I'll be getting on,
I guess. Must be dark out-doors, else you wouldn't have the lamps lit,
and I must have slept a good while. It was terrible warm and nice, and
I couldn't help it. I hope I haven't done no harm, ma'am, and
good-night."

This was Miss Lucy's opportunity; her last chance, as she realized.
The waif had not at all comprehended her meaning when she spoke of
"home," and so she had not committed herself. Many thoughts surged
through her troubled mind. She remembered that she was the last of an
old, aristocratic family, which had always believed in its womenkind
being domestic and not at all strong-minded. She had been inclined to
think that other women, who instituted "homes," or engaged in any sort
of public charity, rather stepped beyond the limits of good breeding,
and had felt herself superior to them.

Then there were the neighbors. It was an old-fashioned, handsome
"square" on which her house stood, and everybody owned his or her
home. It was the pride of these people that there was never a house to
let. And, indeed, it was a charming locality. Each residence stood
upon a dou