"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.