CHAPTER XX.
BEFORE THE PARTY.
"You'll be able to attend Ida Greyson's party after all, Dick," saidFosdick, on Tuesday evening.
"Yes," said Dick, "I was afraid that I should be wanted to grace thefashionable circles at Blackwell's Island; but as my particular friendMicky Maguire has kindly offered to go in my place, I shall be able tokeep my other engagement."
"Micky's a bad fellow."
"I'm afraid he is," said Dick; "but he's never had a fair chance. Hisfather was a drunkard, and used to beat him and his mother, till Mickyran away from home, and set up for himself. He's never had any goodexample set him."
"You speak kindly of Micky, considering he has always been your enemy."
"I haven't any ill will against Micky," said Dick, generously. "If Iever can do him a good turn I will. I've been luckier than he and mostof my old companions, I'm going to do all I can to help them along.There's good in them if you can only bring it out."
Dick spoke earnestly, in a very different tone from his usual one. Hehad a certain philosophy of his own, and had always taken the worldeasily, however it treated him; but he had a warm and sympathizing heartfor the sufferings of others, and he felt that he was in a position tobefriend his old associates, and encourage them to higher aims and abetter mode of life.
"You're a good fellow, Dick," said Fosdick. "It isn't everybody that isso charitable to the faults of others."
"I know one," said Dick, smiling.
"You mean me; but I'm afraid you are mistaken. I can't say I feel verywell disposed towards Micky Maguire."
"Maybe Micky'll reform and turn out well after all."
"It would be a wonderful change."
"Haven't both of us changed wonderfully in the last eighteen months?"
"You were always a good fellow, even when you were Ragged Dick."
"You say that because you are my friend, Fosdick."
"I say it because it's true, Dick. You were always ready to take theside of the weak against the strong, and share your money with those whowere out of luck. I had a hard time till I fell in with you."
"Thank you," said Dick; "if I ever want a first-rate recommendation I'llcome to you. What a lot of friends I've got! Mr. Gilbert offered to getme another place if I'd only resign my situation at Rockwell &Cooper's."
"He's a very disinterested friend," said Fosdick, laughing. "Do youthink of accepting his offer?"
"I'm afraid I might not be suited with the place he'd get me," saidDick. "He thinks I'm best fitted to adorn the office of a boot-black.Maybe he'd appoint me his private boot-black; but I'm afraid I shouldn'tbe able to retire on a fortune till I was two or three hundred, if Iaccepted the situation."
"What shall we wear to the party, Dick?"
"We've got good suits of clothes. We can carry them to a tailor's andhave them pressed, and they will look well enough. I saw a splendidnecktie to-day at a store on Broadway. I'm going to buy it."
"You have a weakness for neckties, Dick."
"You see, Fosdick, if you have a striking necktie, people will look atthat, and they won't criticise your face."
"There may be something in that, Dick. I feel a little nervous though.It is the first fashionable party I ever attended."
"Well," said Dick, "I haven't attended many. When I was a boot-black Ifound it interfered with my business, and so I always declined all thefashionable invitations I got."
"You'd have made a sensation," said Fosdick, "if you had appeared in thecostume you then wore."
"That's what I was afraid of. I don't want to make a sensation. I'm toomodest."
In fact both the boys, though they were flattered by Ida's invitation,looked forward rather nervously to the evening of the party. For thefirst time they were to meet and mingle on terms of equality with alarge number of young people who had been brought up very differentlyfrom themselves. Dick could not help remembering how short a time hadelapsed since, with his little wooden box strapped to his back, he usedto call out, "Black your boots?" in the city park. Perhaps some of hisold customers might be present. Still he knew that he had improvedgreatly, and that his appearance had changed for the better. It washardly likely that any one seeing him in Mr. Greyson's drawing-room,would identify him as the Ragged Dick of other days. Then there wasanother ground for confidence. Ida liked him, and he had a sincereliking for the little girl for whom he had a feeling such as a brotherhas for a cherished younger sister. So Dick dressed himself for theparty, feeling that he should "get through it somehow."
I need not say, of course, that his boots shone with a lustre not to besurpassed even by the professional expert of the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Itwas very evident that Dick had not forgotten the business by which heonce gained his livelihood.
When Dick had arranged his necktie to suit him, which I am bound toconfess took at least quarter of an hour, had carefully brushed hishair, and dusted his clothes, he certainly looked remarkably well. Dickwas not vain, but he was anxious to appear to advantage on his firstappearance in society. It need not be added that Fosdick also was neatlydressed, but he was smaller and more delicate-looking than Dick, and notlikely to attract so much attention.
As the boys were descending the stairs they met Miss Peyton.
"Really, Mr. Hunter," said that young lady, "you look quite dazzlingthis evening. How many hearts do you expect to break this evening?"
"I'm not in that line of business," said Dick. "I leave all that toyou."
"You're too bad, really, Mr. Hunter," said Miss Peyton, highly pleased,nevertheless. "I never think of such a thing."
"I suppose I must believe you," said Dick, "but why is it that Mr.Clifton has looked so sad lately?"
"Mr. Clifton would not think of poor me," said Miss Peyton.
"If you only knew what he said about you the other day."
"Do tell me."
"I couldn't."
"If you will, I'll give you--"
"Thank you," interrupted Dick, gravely; "but I never accept kisses fromladies over six years old."
"How can you say so, Mr. Hunter?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Peyton, but I really couldn't."
"As if I ever thought of such a thing!" said Miss Peyton, in affectedhorror.
"I appeal to my friend Fosdick."
"Did I say so, Mr. Fosdick?"
Fosdick smiled.
"You mustn't appeal to me, Miss Peyton. You and Mr. Hunter are sobrilliant that I don't pretend to understand you."
"Then you won't tell me what Mr. Clifton said. It is too bad. I shan'tsleep to-night for thinking of it."
"Suppose you ask Mr. Clifton."
"I don't know but I will."
Miss Peyton went into the parlor, her heart fluttering with the thoughtthat she had made a conquest of the gentleman referred to. As Mr.Clifton was a clerk on a small salary, continually in debt, and with noexpectations, he could not be considered a very brilliant match; butMiss Peyton was not very particular, and she would have readily changedher name to Clifton if the chance should present itself. As we may nothave occasion to refer to her again, it may be as well to state that Mr.Clifton's pecuniary affairs came to a crisis some months afterwards. Hehad always been in the habit of laughing at Miss Peyton; but in hisstrait he recollected that she was mistress of a few thousand dollarsover which she had absolute control. Under these circumstances hedecided to sacrifice himself. He accordingly offered his heart and hand,and was promptly accepted. Miss Peyton informed him that he was "theobject of her heart's tenderest affection, her first and only love." Mr.Clifton expressed no doubt of this, though he was aware that Miss Peytonhad been laying her snares for a husband for nearly ten years.
The marriage took place at the boarding-house, Dick and Fosdick beingamong the invited guests.
Mr. Clifton with his wife's money bought a partnership in a retail storeon Eighth Avenue, where it is to be hoped he is doing a good business.Any one desirous of calling upon him at his place of business isreferred to
the New York City Directory for his number. Whether Mr. andMrs. Clifton live happily I cannot pretend to say, not being included inthe list of their friends; but I am informed by my friend Dick, whocalls occasionally, that Mrs. Clifton is as fascinating now as beforeher marriage, and very naturally scorns the whole sisterhood of oldmaids, having narrowly escaped becoming one herself.
Fame and Fortune; or, The Progress of Richard Hunter Page 20
