to mud and slush. Gas was alight everywhere, for the fog was thick, and the New Year had arrived in anything but a pleasant garb. Gerard Lorrimer had left his bright home in the country some days sooner than was necessary, to be present at the Christmas Tree in the Children's Ward of the City Hospital. As the train bore him from the glittering country, where the sunlight gleamed through branches frosted with rime, into the darkness and dirtiness of London, Gerard Lorrimer's thoughts strayed in the old direction, that contact with sordid humanity immediately spoils the beauties of nature.

It was yet early in the forenoon, but already one end of the ward was screened off from the eager eyes of the children, though the top of a large fir-tree towered above the screens.

As Gerard entered the long ward with its fifty little cribs, he was greeted with a perfect shower of childish welcomes: "Mr. Lolo!" "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lolo!" "Mr. Lolo's tum back!" "Appy New Year, Mr. Lolo!" and a nurse's smiling face peeped round the screen as she said: "We are so glad to see you, Mr. Lolo."

Each little hand held out in greeting got a return grasp, one still, upturned face got a grave kiss, and then Mr. Lolo vanished behind the mystic screens.

He was only a student of twenty, a tall, strong young man, with a powerful face and a pleasant voice; but he was an immense favourite with the children, who had abbreviated his name of "Lorrimer" to "Lolo," until he was known throughout the whole hospital by that appellation only. It was It was the height of a small patient's ambition to have Mr. Lolo for "my doctor"-all students and dressers are doctors in the children's eyes; but those who could not have the professional services of the favourite were not debarred from the labours of love which occupied all Mr. Lolo's spare moments. The merest babe who had dropped a toy, had only to put its little fist to its eyes and begin to whimper; and, if Lolo was in the ward, he immediately divined the cause of grief, and restored the lost plaything with a smile which would have drawn an answer from Henry the First himself.

Now, there was eager watch kept for the appearance of Mr. Lolo's head above the screen, as some decoration was added to the top of the tree. "Der he is!" "Hi! Mr. Lolo."

"He's dot a dolly !"

Lolo turned and made a face at his eager watchers, and then dropped down behind the screen again, amidst shouts of laughter.

At last the tree was finished, and Lolo aided the nurses to turn all the cribs towards the central point of attraction, and then came the dinner-hour, when students were bound to leave the ward.

Lolo strode away to his lodgings to get a hasty meal, and see whether any letters were awaiting him. He had a habit of becoming interested in the future of his patients which was bad for his private purse. He sat now with creased forehead, perusing an appeal for "just a little aid," knowing well he had given in Christmas gifts, every penny he had to spare. It was enough to make a man, reared in the country, sick at heart, to be brought thus suddenly face to face with the misery and vice of London. What use was it that Lolo worked all day and read half the night, he could not relieve one-tenth of the deserving cases of pain and poverty that came under his own individual observation. There was always something left undone ; there was always the weary thought that the meal he was eating might have saved some starving wretch, that, though he was in warmth and comfort, hundreds were in cold and grief.

But there were the children! The wrinkles left Lolo's brow as he glanced at the clock and saw it was time to light the tree.

"Thank Heaven for the children!" he exclaimed as he strode off to the ward, where he received the usual enthusiastic welcome: they, at least, were comparatively innocent and happy, and capable of ignoring all but the pleasure of the moment.

"Where is Bessie, Sister Mary?"

"We had to discharge her, Mr. Lolo, she was getting no better, and the bed was wanted for another case."

"But Bessie had so looked forward to the tree, poor child! Tell me, Sister Mary, may I not go and fetch her just for this afternoon?"

"Of course you may, Mr. Lolo, and God bless you!"

Only a few streets off Bessie was lying alone in a cold room, crying in a hopeless, endless way, when there was a sound of feet on the stairs, and Bessie's sobs stopped suddenly in a perfect rapture of surprise as Mr. Lolo's head peeped in at the door. "Mother had gone out," so a neighbour was hastily informed that Bessie would be

back before evening, and then perched on Lolo's broad shoulder, with tears yet standing in her laughing eyes, the wizened wee mite was carried off to the Christmas Tree.

Oh what an afternoon that was for the children! A bright spot long remembered in many dull little lives. There were lots of visitors in rich garments strolling about; there was the wondrous tree laden with gifts, and lighted with hundreds of little candles; there was a toy for each child's "very own," and there were also oranges and sponge-cakes for tea. Who would have thought that those cheery little ones, all laughing with delight, had each a burden of physical suffering to bear, and a daily portion of weakness and weariness to pass through?

It was over. In some magic way the cribs were back in their places, the tree and the visitors had vanished, and most of the tired children were sleeping with arms tightly wound round their newly-received treasures. Lolo returned to the ward after showing some friends round the building, and found Bessie sleeping quietly on a blanket before the fire.

"How can I take her back to her dreary home, Sister Mary?"

"You must, Mr. Lolo. She has had some beef-tea, and is all right for to night. We must try and get her sent to Margate."

Sister Mary was older and more experienced than Lolo, and had given up complaining of the inevitable. She went cheerfully on her way doing what she could, and leaving the rest to Heaven. Lolo had less faith, and rebelled against the fate which banished the poor little girl from the warm fireside. He lifted Bessie gently in his arms, and, covering her face from the fog with his handkerchief, carried her, still sleeping, to her home, and laid her on the wretched bed.

"I have brought Bessie Langley back," he said to a woman on the floor below.

Oh, sir! be you a gentleman from the 'orspital? I do wish you'd step in and see my 'usband. 'E is that bad I dunno what to do wi' 'im, and they won't take 'im in there without a letter, seeing as it isn't a haccident."

Lolo went into the room where a man lay on a bed breathing heavily. It did not need the use of the stethoscope to tell that he had inflammation of the lungs.

"Have you had a doctor?

"E went to some chemist on Monday, not feeling well and not being equal to 'is

work, and the chemist 'e give 'im a pill and told 'im to come again; but 'e 'asn't been able to go, as you may see."

"Can you make a poultice?"

"Yes, sir. I 'ave done a lot o' nursing in my time; wot with 'aving ten children, mostly gells, as was given to

"Put a poultice of linseed-meal on the back here, and on the chest here, and I will send a doctor to you. My man, let me raise you a bit, and your breathing will be easier."

"Double pneumonia; too bad to be moved?" said the parish doctor when Lolo told him. "I fear that is hopeless. Good nursing is an absolute necessity, and that wife of his is the biggest fool that wags a tongue in this babel of ours. Believe me, I once found her putting on a poultice in a waterproof bag so that it shouldn't mess the clothes! Hang the women for being either angels or idiots! "

Is there no district nurse who would help?"

"You might ask at the Home; but the good Sisters are overworked as it is."

Lolo went off to the Sisterhood and persuaded the Superior to send a nurse down, and then, having dined at a restaurant, he returned to his lodgings to read. Luckily his work interested him that night and took away his thoughts from individual suffering to the great subject of the general alleviation of pain by anæsthetics.

"I don't think bromide of ethyl has had a fair trial," he said next day as he stood chatting to one of the house physicians.

"I don't think it has; but it is rather risky to experiment on one's patients."

Well, I want a tooth dug out, and, as business is dull, I am willing to try the bromide."

"Are you, old fellow? That is good, for you can recount your sensations afterwards, which a dog cannot. And, I say, we must try grafting on that boy in Charity who was burnt. You don't mind parting with a few portions of your epidermis, suppose?"

"Oh, no! Anything you like!" said Lolo, laughing. "My vile body is quite at your disposal."

The bromide of ethyl was not a success, and Lolo did not look well for some days following the experiment. He was going up for his degree at the London University the next autumn, and reading for that, together with attendance at the hospital lectures and dissections, and in the wards, told even on his splendid health.

Some people connected with a "mission" also got hold of him, and, under the belief that they were keeping a fast young medical student out of temptation persuaded him to spend many evenings at a boys' club. Lolo never liked to refuse an appeal for help, and his assistance was given to all who asked. "Have you the time?" asked the Chaplain, hesitatingly, as he concluded a request for aid in re-arranging the chapel seats.

"I will make time," replied Lolo gravely, for indeed he could not see from whence a spare moment was to be snatched in his busy day. Just then a nurse came along, bearing a large can of milk. Hospital etiquette is very strict, but it broke down before Lolo's noble longing to share all burdens.

"Excuse me," he said, hurrying after nurse and extending his hand.

"No, sir," replied the girl blushing, and swinging the can across to the other hand. If the house-governor were to see her letting a student address her, much less aid her, on the stairs, there would be trouble; and should the students meet Lolo carrying milk, he would be laughed at for months.

Lolo was a man and scorned these trifles. He stepped in front of the girl and said, smiling: "Put down the can, please."

She was constrained to obey for sake of quiet, though she remonstrated, saying she could carry it quite well.

"It is not fair to ask the nurses to do this," said Lolo, indignantly.

"The ward-maid was out, and the milk was wanted; besides, I am every bit as strong as our ward-maid, who has to carry up four cans of milk every day."

"It ought to come up in the lift." "Oh, Mr. Lolo ! if we none of us have heavier burdens than that to bear, we shall be lucky. Please let me take it now?"

But Lolo marched straight into the children's ward, and placed the milk in the pantry in the calmest way.

The Sister called him to see some child, and having got him into a quiet corner, lectured him sternly on turning himself into a milkman. "Where is your self-respect?" she asked, in conclusion.

"My self-respect and right to the name of a gentleman would have gone for ever, had I allowed a young girl to carry such a heavy weight in my presence."

"You are hopelessly Quixotic, Mr. Lolo; may you learn common-sense some day," and the Sister passed on to a crying child.

No one was much surprised when Lolo was absent from the wards for a day or two. There was a general feeling that such extraordinary energy must work itself out, and require recuperation by a day or two in bed. Mr. Tabor, the housesurgeon, strolled across one evening to see how Lolo was.

"Hullo! old fellow; so you've caved in at last? You'll be more reasonable in future."

"Don't come near me, Tabor, I'm afraid I'm in for a fever. Shouldn't wonder if some of those little wretches have given me measles."

"Any rash? What's your temperature ?" "No rash yet; temperature 102°. I caved in because I didn't want to carry infection anywhere."

"You look rather feverish; but with your physique you'll pull through everything. Shall I send the Chief over to see you?"

"To-morrow? Yes; unless I send word to the contrary. Was Warrenport there to-day?"

"Yes, and operated on that boy in Ten bed; but, I fear, unsuccessfully." "Poor child! How did he bear it?" "Very badly; Warrenport did it without chloroform.'

"What!" shouted Lolo, starting up in bed.

"My dear fellow, do be still! It was a slight affair, and Warrenport said he couldn't come again to do it. He had forgotten to send word to Sister Mary that he was going to operate, and the child had just swallowed a big dinner; he couldn't. give him ether."

'May I never live to become a great surgeon, if I must needs grow like that man!"

"You are feverish, Lolo; I mustn't talk to you. Have you got all you want?"

Yes, thank you; Mother Green looks after me. I say, tell Ten I am so sorry for him. I wish I could go to the ward!"

"You might give them all scarlet fever if you did. Sister Mary told me to tell you she has got Bessie a bed at Seaford."

"That is one good thing," said Lolo weakly.

"Good night; and I hope you'll be better to-morrow."

"Good-night," replied Lolo, closing his weary eyes.

The next day there was a rumour that Lolo had been removed to the Fever Hospital; but an unusual number of acci