"My little finger was knocked out of joint, but I think I put it back. I guess that's all they had time to get in,--"

"Who?"

The sharp monosyllable made them both start. Leslie had returned with Mrs. Bussey, who was carrying a kettle of hot water; but in her surprise at her father's remark, she was very effectively blocking the way for the timid servant.

"Leslie, your curiosity unfits you for any useful career," her father exclaimed, with a great show of irritation. "Do you suppose Dr. Burton wanted that hot water to meliorate the temperature of the room? If so, it will probably be just as well to keep Mrs. Bussey holding it in the doorway; but if you think he possibly meant to use it as a fomentation,--"

"You needn't think you are going to put me off in that way," said Leslie, making way for Mrs. Bussey. "I am just as sorry as I can be that you are hurt, you know, but that isn't all. I want to know what has happened now."

"Dr. Burton assures me it is merely a strain, though he goes so far as to admit that if I make the worst of it, I may be able to imagine that it hurts. But of course it doesn't really. It will merely be nerves."

"Can I help you with that hot application, Mr. Burton?" Leslie asked.

"Mrs. Bussey can do this. Do you know where to find some court-plaster? And scissors?"

She got the required articles deftly, and watched in silence while he dressed the doctor's temple. Then she asked: "May he talk now?"

"I should not undertake to prevent him."

"Now, father,--"

"Well, those little imps of Satan that live in that tumble-down house on King Street, where you went Friendly Visiting,--"

"The Sprigg children?"

"That's the name. They have heard Aristides called the unjust so long that they thought they would throw a stone or two to mark their ennui, but they misunderstood the use of the stone, and so they threw it at me instead of for me--"

"Do you mean that they stoned you?"

"Oh, I shouldn't have minded the little devils, but they threw stones at Dolly, and they 

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