"You'll be able to attend Ida Greyson's party after all, Dick," said Fosdick, on Tuesday evening.

"Yes," said Dick, "I was afraid that I should be wanted to grace the fashionable circles at Blackwell's Island; but as my particular friend Micky Maguire has kindly offered to go in my place, I shall be able to keep my other engagement."

"Micky's a bad fellow."

"I'm afraid he is," said Dick; "but he's never had a fair chance. His father was a drunkard, and used to beat him and his mother, till Micky ran away from home, and set up for himself. He's never had any good example 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 I ever can do him a good turn I will. I've been luckier than he and most of 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. He had a certain philosophy of his own, and had always taken the world easily, however it treated him; but he had a warm and sympathizing heart for the sufferings of others, and he felt that he was in a position to befriend his old associates, and encourage them to higher aims and a better mode of life.

"You're a good fellow, Dick," said Fosdick. "It isn't everybody that is so 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 very well 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 the side of the weak against the strong, and share your money with those who were 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'll come to you. What a lot of friends I've got! Mr. Gilbert offered to get me another place if I'd only resign my situation at Rockwell & Cooper's."

"He's a very disinterested friend," said Fosdick, laughing. "Do you think of accepting his offer?"

"I'm afraid I might not be suited with the place he'd get me," said Dick. "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't be able to retire on a fortune till I was two or three hundred, if I accepted 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 and have them pressed, and they will look well enough. I saw a splendid necktie 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 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.