Fame and Fortune; or, The Progress of Richard Hunter by Jr. Horatio Alger (little readers .txt) 📕

neckties, Dick."

"You see, Fosdick, if you have a striking necktie, people will look at that, 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 I found it interfered with my business, and so I always declined all the fashionable invitations I got."

"You'd have made a sensation," said Fosdick, "if you had appeared in the costume you then wore."

"That's what I was afraid of. I don't want to make a sensation. I'm too modest."

In fact both the boys, though they were flattered by Ida's invitation, looked forward rather nervously to the evening of the party. For the first time they were to meet and mingle on terms of equality with a large number of young people who had been brought up very differently from themselves. Dick could not help remembering how short a time had elapsed since, with his little wooden box strapped to his back, he used to call out, "Black your boots?" in the city park. Perhaps some of his old customers might be present. Still he knew that he had improved greatly, and that his appearance had changed for the better. It was hardly likely that any one seeing him in Mr. Greyson's drawing-room, would identify him as the Ragged Dick of other days. Then there was another ground for confidence. Ida liked him, and he had a sincere liking for the little girl for whom he had a feeling such as a brother has for a cherished younger sister. So Dick dressed himself for the party, feeling that he should "get through it somehow."

I need not say, of course, that his boots shone with a lustre not to be surpassed even by the professional expert of the Fifth Avenue Hotel. It was very evident that Dick had not forgotten the business by which he once gained his livelihood.

When Dick had arranged his necktie to suit him, which I am bound to confess took at least quarter of an hour, had carefully brushed his hair, and dusted his clothes, he certainly looked remarkably well. Dick was not vain, but he was anxious to appear to advantage on his first appearance in society. It need not be added that Fosdick also was neatly dressed, but he was smaller and more delicate-looking than Dick, and not likely 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 dazzling this 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 to you."

"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 from ladies 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 affected horror.

"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 so brilliant that I don't pretend to understand you."

"Then you won't tell me what Mr. Clifton said. It is too bad. I shan't sleep 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 thought that 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 no expectations, he could not be considered a very brilliant match; but Miss Peyton was not very particular, and she would have readily changed her name to Clifton if the chance should present itself. As we may not have 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. He had always been in the habit of laughing at Miss Peyton; but in his strait he recollected that she was mistress of a few thousand dollars over which she had absolute control. Under these circumstances he decided to sacrifice himself. He accordingly offered his heart and hand, and was promptly accepted. Miss Peyton informed him that he was "the object of her heart's tenderest affection, her first and only love." Mr. Clifton expressed no doubt of this, though he was aware that Miss Peyton had been laying her snares for a husband for nearly ten years.

The marriage took place at the boarding-house, Dick and Fosdick being among the invited guests.

Mr. Clifton with his wife's money bought a partnership in a retail store on 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 is referred to the New York City Directory for his number. Whether Mr. and Mrs. Clifton live happily I cannot pretend to say, not being included in the list of their friends; but I am informed by my friend Dick, who calls occasionally, that Mrs. Clifton is as fascinating now as before her marriage, and very naturally scorns the whole sisterhood of old maids, having narrowly escaped becoming one herself.

CHAPTER XXI. IDA GREYSON'S PARTY.

When Dick and his friend reached Mr. Greyson's house, two carriages stood before the door, from each of which descended young guests, who, like themselves, had been invited to the party. One of these brought two young girls of twelve, the other two boys of twelve and fourteen, and their sister of ten. Entering with this party, the two boys felt less embarrassed than if they had been alone. The door was opened by a servant, who said, "Young ladies' dressing-room, second floor, left-hand room. Young gentlemen's dressing-room opposite."

Following directions, the boys went upstairs and entered a spacious chamber, where they deposited their outer garments, and had an opportunity to arrange their hair and brush their clothes.

"Is your sister here this evening?" asked one of the boys, addressing Dick.

"No," said Dick, soberly; "she couldn't come."

"I'm sorry for that. She promised to dance with me the first Lancers."

"Wouldn't I do as well?" asked Dick.

"I don't think you would," said the other, laughing. "But I'll tell you what,—you shall dance with my sister."

"I will, with pleasure," said Dick, "if you'll introduce me."

"Why, I thought you knew her," said the other, in surprise.

"Perhaps I did," said Dick; "but I exchanged myself off for another boy just before I came, and that makes a difference, you know. I shouldn't have known you, if you hadn't spoken to me."

"Do you know me now?" asked the other boy, beginning to understand that he had made a mistake.

"You live on Twenty-First Street,—don't you?"

"Yes," was the unexpected reply, for Dick had by a curious chance guessed right. "You're Henry Cameron, after all."

"No," said Dick; "my name is Richard Hunter."

"And mine is Theodore Selden; but I suppose you knew that, as you knew where I live. If you're ready, we'll go downstairs."

"Come, Fosdick," said Dick.

"We're going to have the Lancers first," said Theodore. "Ida told my sister so. Have you a partner engaged?"

"No."

"Then I'll introduce you to my sister. Come along."

I may explain here that Dick, and Fosdick also, had several times danced the Lancers in the parlor at the boarding-house in the evening, so that they felt reasonably confident of getting through respectably. Still his new friend's proposal made Dick feel a little nervous. He was not bashful with boys, but he had very little acquaintance with girls or young ladies, and expected to feel ill at ease with them. Still he could not think of a good reason for excusing himself from the promised introduction, and, after going up to Ida in company with his new friend, and congratulating her on her birthday (he would not have known how to act if Theodore had not set him an example), he walked across the room to where one of the young ladies who had entered at the time he did was seated.

"Alice," said Theodore, "this is my friend Mr. Hunter, who would like to dance with you in the first Lancers."

Dick bowed, and Alice, producing a card, said, "I shall be most happy. Will Mr. Hunter write his name on my card?"

Dick did so, and was thankful that he could now write a handsome hand.

"Now," said Theodore, unceremoniously, "I'll leave you two to amuse each other, while I go off in search of a partner."

"I'm in for it," thought Dick, seating himself on the sofa beside Alice. "I wish I knew what to say."

"Do you like the Lancers?" inquired the young lady.

"Yes, I like it," said Dick, "but I haven't danced it much. I'm afraid I shall make some mistakes."

"I've no doubt we shall get along well," said Alice. "Where did you learn?"

"I learned at home," said Dick.

"I thought I had not met you at Dodworth's. I attended dancing school there last winter."

"No," said Dick; "I never took lessons."

"Don't you like Ida Greyson?" inquired Alice.

"Yes, I like her very much," said Dick, sincerely.

"She's a sweet girl. She's a very intimate friend of mine. Who is that boy that came into the room with you?"

"His name is Henry Fosdick."

"He's going to dance with Ida. Come, let us hurry and get in the same set."

Dick offered his arm, and, as the sets were already being formed, led his partner to the upper end of the room, where they were just in time to get into the same set with Ida.

Theodore, with a girl about his own age, had already taken his position opposite Dick. Fosdick and Ida were the first couple, and opposite them Isaac and Isabella Selden, cousins of Theodore and Alice.

They had scarcely taken their places when the music struck up. Dick felt a little flustered, but determined to do his best. Being very quick in learning figures, and naturally gracefully in his movements, he got through very creditably, and without a mistake.

"I thought you expected to make mistakes," said Alice Selden, as Dick led her back to her seat. "I think you dance very well."

"It was because I had such a good partner," said Dick.

"Thank you for the compliment," said Alice, courtesying profoundly.

"Seems to me you're very polite, Alice," said Theodore, coming up.

"Mr. Hunter was paying me a compliment," said Alice.

"I wish you'd tell me how," said Theodore to Dick.

"I wish he would," interrupted Alice. "All your compliments are of the wrong kind."

"It isn't expected that brothers should compliment their sisters," said Theodore.

Mrs. Greyson came into the room during the dancing, and was pleased to see that Dick and Henry Fosdick, instead of sitting awkwardly in the corner, were taking their part in the evening's amusement. Dick made an engagement with Alice for another dance later in the evening, but danced the second with Ida Greyson, with whom, by this time, he felt very well acquainted.