excellent education; he held a prominent position in the greatest
telegraph company of the country, with a prospect of further advancement
before him, and yet, because he was poor, he was looked down upon by
those who were his inferiors in everything except the single one of
wealth.

"It is a great disappointment," he sometimes murmured, "but I am young;
most folks would laugh that one of my age should take such a fancy to a
little girl like Dolly, and they would say I am certain to get over it
very soon. And just there is where they would all make a great mistake."

And Ben Mayberry was right on that point.

CHAPTER XXIII

FACE TO FACE

Ben Mayberry was sitting at his desk in the Damietta office, one
beautiful day in Indian summer, attentive as ever to his duties, when a
carriage drove up to the door containing a young gentleman and a lady.
The former sprang lightly out and ran into the office, after the manner
of one who was in a hurry to send an important telegram.

Suddenly, while Ben was looking at the youth he recognized him as
Rutherford Richmond, with whom he had had several important meetings.

"Why, Rutherford, you have grown so much I didn't recognize you; I am
glad to see you; how have you been?"

Ben reached his hand over the counter as he greeted the young man, but
the latter affected not to hear him. Turning to the desk, he wrote out a
message with great rapidity, wheeled about, and, without the slightest
evidence of ever having seen Ben, handed him the paper and ordered the
dispatch to be sent to New York.

This was the telegram:

"Richard Willard, No.-- Avenue, New York:

"Dolly and I reached here safe. Big party at Grandin's
to-morrow; sure of grand time. Will take good care of
Dolly.

"Rutherford Richmond."

As the writer hurried out the door, Ben followed him with his eyes.
There, in a handsome, single-seated carriage, sat a beautiful miss of
thirteen or fourteen, elegantly dressed and looking straight toward him.
It was Dolly Willard, more enchanting than ever, her eyes luminous with
health and her cheeks as pink and rosy as the delicate tint of the coral.

Ben was too shocked to salute her, and probably it was as well he did not
do so, for she simply stared with scarcely less directness than did her
companion.

Only by the most supreme exertion was the youth enabled to choke down his
rebellious e