"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.