It scarcely required the groping of a soft little hand inside his unbuttoned trousers to raise all his usual fiery ardour.

Each girl (they were not more than thirteen and fifteen respectively) put their arms round his neck and kissed him, the eldest whispering — "You are a darling young fellow, so different from the dirty old men we generally pick up here, I should so like you to have me properly; my little sister doesn't know what it is yet; she is only up to the tossing off business, but I like the real thing, you know, when I can get a proper young bit like you. We can only get out Tuesdays and Fridays. Will you meet us on Tuesday, and go into the Green Park; there you will see lots of fun, and can get out at any time; in Hyde Park we get shut in, and have to climb over the gate."

He could feel her give quite a shudder of desire as she said this, whilst one of her hands began to play with his appendages, at the same time as her little sister was delightfully manipulating the shaft above. They had slits in their dresses, so that both of his hands found employment, exploring and groping on the one side the soft incipient moss of the elder one's grot, as well as the hairless slit of her little sister. The situation was altogether too piquante to last many moments. The ecstatic crisis came almost instantly, and he could also feel them both bedew his fingers with their female tribute to the touches of love, which his roving fingers made them feel so exquisitely.

Our hero was so pleased that he gave each one half-a-crown as he kissed and took leave of them, promising to keep the Tuesday's appointment at the same time.

"You are a darling," said the youngest, Betsy. "Won't we keep ourselves for him, Sarah; we don't want much money, do we?"

"No, that we will. I hate the nasty old men; we only do it because mother can't keep the home over us unless we bring in five or six shillings a week somehow," was the rejoinder.