d began to
whimper. "O dear, what shall I do?" Then did it, i. e. wrung her
small fingers and cried.

"Pardon me one moment." Little passed his arm around her neck, and
with his thumb opened widely the patrician-veined lids of her sweet
blue eyes. "Thank Heaven, there is yet no dilation of the pupil; it is
not too late!" He cast a rapid glance around. The nozzle and about
three feet of garden hose lay near him.

"Open your mouth, quick!"

It was a pretty, kissable mouth. But young Little meant business. He
put the nozzle down her pink throat as far as it would go.

"Now, don't move."

He wrapped his handkerchief around a hoopstick. Then he inserted both
in the other end of the stiff hose. It fitted snugly. He shoved it in
and then drew it back.

Nature abhors a vacuum. The young patrician was as amenable to this
law as the child of the lowest peasant.

She succumbed. It was all over in a minute. Then she burst into a
small fury.

"You nasty, bad--UGLY boy."

Young Little winced, but smiled.

"Stimulants," he whispered to the frightened nursery-maid who
approached; "good evening." He was gone.

CHAPTER IV.

The breach between young Little and Mr. Raby was slowly widening.
Little found objectionable features in the Hall. "This black oak
ceiling and wainscoating is not as healthful as plaster; besides, it
absorbs the light. The bedroom ceiling is too low; the Elizabethan
architects knew nothing of ventilation. The color of that oak
panelling which you admire is due to an excess of carbon and the exuvia
from the pores of your skin--"

"Leave the house," bellowed Raby, "before the roof falls on your
sacrilegious head!"

As Little left the house, Lady Caroline and a handsome boy of about
Little's age entered. Lady Caroline recoiled, and then--blushed.
Little glared; he instinctively felt the presence of a rival.

CHAPTER V.

Little worked hard. He studied night and day. In five years he became
a lecturer, then a professor.

He soared as high as the clouds, he dipped as low as the cellars of the
London poor. He analyzed the London fog, and found it two parts smoke,
one disease, one unmentionable abominations. He published a pamphlet,
which was violently attacked. Then he knew he had done something.

But he had not forgotten Caroline. He was walking one day in the
Zoological Gardens and he came upon a pretty picture,--flesh and blood
too.

Lady Caroline feeding buns to