It was two o'clock when Theodore applied his own night-key and entered his front door. The gas was still lighted in the back parlor, and thither he went. It was not the back parlor that belonged to the little cottage house near the depot; not the same house at all, but one larger 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 was _something_, sure enough," answered Theodore, smiling faintly; and then he gave a rapid and condensed account of the midnight scene, interrupted by many exclamations of horror and amaze from his listener.