hat part of the city in the hope of catching a glimpse of
the cousin for whom he retained his old, boyish love; but he had always
shrunk, even when seeing him, from attracting his observation. He did
not wish to be remembered in his rags, and so denied himself the
pleasure for which he yearned. But now he was satisfied with his
appearance. He felt that he was as well dressed as Charles himself, and
would do no discredit to him if they were seen in the street together.

He got on board an omnibus, and took his seat. A lady soon after
entered, and sat down beside him She drew out some money from her
purse, and, passing it to Ben, said, "Will you have the kindness to pass
up my fare, sir?"

"Certainly," said Ben, politely.

It was a small incident, but he felt, from the young lady's manner of
addressing him, that she looked upon him as her equal socially, and this
afforded him not a little pleasure. He wondered how he could have been
content to drift about the streets so long, clothed in rags. New hopes
and a new ambition had been awakened within him, and he felt that a new
life lay before him, much better worth living than the old life.

These thoughts occupied him as he rode up Broadway.

At length he left the omnibus, and took the shortest route to his
sister's house. When he ascended the steps, and rang the bell, he felt
rather a queer sensation come over him. He remembered very well the last
time he had ascended those same steps, carrying his cousin's valise. His
heart beat quick with excitement, in the midst of which the door was
opened by the servant.

He had already decided to ask for his cousin, preferring to make himself
known to him first.

"Is Charles Marston in?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir," said the servant. "Won't you come in?"

She threw open the door of the parlor, and Ben, entering, seated himself
in an arm-chair, holding his hat in his hand.

"I wonder if she'd asked me in here if I'd come in my rags?" he asked
himself, with a smile.

The servant went upstairs, where she found Charles in his own room,
writing a French exercise.

"Master Charles," she said, "one of your school-mates is in the parlor.
He wants to see you."

"All right. I'll go right down."

The mistake was quite a natural one, as boys who attended the same
private school frequently called for Charles.

Charles went downstairs, and entered the parlor. Ben rose as he entered.

"How are you, Charlie?" said Ben, rising, and of