Not that I was in love with Miss Mayton.  A man may honestly and strongly admire a handsome, brilliant woman, and delight himself in trying to give her pleasure without feeling it necessary she shall give him herself in return.

My delight suddenly became clouded.  What would folks say?  Everybody knew where Mike was employed—­everybody knew I was the only gentleman at present residing at Colonel Lawrence’s.  Ah, I had it.

I had seen in one of the library drawers a pasteboard box—­just the size.  I dropped my card into the bottom, neatly fitted in the bouquet, and went in search of Mike.

He winked cheeringly, and said he would do it “as clane as a whistle.  Divil a man can see, but the angels, and they won’t tell.”

“Very well, Mike.  Here’s a dollar for you.  You’ll find the box on the hat-rack in the hall.”

With a head full of pleasing fancies I went down to supper, and found my new friends unusually good.  Their ride seemed to have toned down their boisterousness, and elevated their little souls.  So when they invited me to put them to bed I gladly accepted.  Toddie disappeared somewhere, and came back disconsolate.

“Can’t find my doll’s k’adle!” he whined.

“Never mind, old pet!” said I, soothingly, “uncle will ride you on his foot.”

“But I want my dolly’s k’adle, tawse my dolly’s in it, and I want to shee her!”

“Don’t you want me to tell you a story?”

For a moment Toddle’s face indicated a terrible internal conflict between old Adam and Mother Eve; finally curiosity overpowered natural depravity, and Toddie muttered, “Yesh!”

Very soon a knock at the door interrupted me.  “Come in!” I shouted.

In stepped Mike, with an air of the greatest secrecy, handed me a letter and the box.  What could it mean?  I hastily opened the envelope, while Toddie shrieked, “Oh, darsh my dolly’s k’adle—­dare tizh!” snatched and opened the box, and displayed—­his doll!

My heart sickened as I read, “Miss Mayton herewith returns to Mr. Burton the package which has just arrived, with his card.  She recognises the contents as a portion of the property of one of Mr. Burton’s nephews, but is unable to understand why it should have been sent to her.”

“Toddie!” I roared, as my younger nephew caressed his loathsome doll, “where did you get that box?”

“On the hat-wack,” he replied, with perfect fearlessness.  “I keeps it in ze bookcase djawer, and somebody took it ‘way an’ put nasty ole flowers in it.”

“Where are those flowers?” I demanded.

Toddie looked up with considerable surprise, but promptly replied, “I froed ’em away—­don’t want no ole flowers in my dolly’s k’adle.  That’s ze way she wocks—­see?” And this horrible little destroyer of human hopes rolled that box back and forth with the most utter unconcern.

Of language to express my feeling to Toddie, I could find absolutely none.  Within these few minutes I had discovered how very anxious I really was to merit Miss Mayton’s regard, and how very different was the regard I wanted from that which I had previously hoped might be accorded to me.  Under my stern glance Toddie gradually lost interest in his doll, and began to thrust forth his piteous lower lip, and to weep copiously.