It so happened that Victor Dupont, already mentioned, was an acquaintance and former school-fellow of Fred Vivian. It also chanced that he selected this evening for a call, as the Vivians stood very high socially, being an old family. Victor was rather proud of his acquaintance with them, and took occasion to call frequently.

As he was ushered into the room he did not at first recognize Frank in his new clothes.

"Victor, this is a friend of mine, Frank Kavanagh," said Fred, introducing his two visitors. "Frank, let me introduce my old school-fellow Victor Dupont."

"We are already acquainted," said Frank. "Good-evening, Victor."

Victor stared in amusing astonishment at Frank.

"How do you happen to be here?" asked Victor, brusquely.

"By Mrs. Vivian's kind invitation," said Frank, quite at ease.

"How do you two happen to know each other?" asked Fred.

"We met in the country last summer," said Frank, finding Victor did not answer.

"I suppose you had a very good time together," said Mrs. Vivian.

"Our acquaintance was very slight," said Victor superciliously.

"We must have gone fishing together at least a dozen times," said Frank, quietly.

"How in the world did the fellow thrust himself in here?" said Victor to himself. "They can't know his low position."

In the amiable desire of enlightening the Vivians Victor took an early opportunity to draw Fred aside.

"Have you known Frank Kavanagh long?" he asked.

"Not very long."

"Do you know that he is a telegraph boy?"

"Oh, yes," answered Fred, smiling.

"He used to be a newsboy, and sell papers in the lower part of the city."

"I didn't know that," said Fred indifferently.

"I must say that I am rather surprised to see him here."

"Why?" asked Fred, with provoking calmness.

"Oh, you know, he is much below us in a social point of view."

"I know that he is a poor boy; but some of our most prominent men were once poor boys."

"I don't believe in mixing up different ranks."

"You didn't think so in the country last summer."

"Oh, well, a fellow must have some company, and there was no better to be had."

"You will probably be surprised to hear that your old acquaintance is to live here while I am in the country. I am going away to-morrow to spend a few weeks with my cousin."

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Victor, in surprise and annoyance. "Perhaps he is to be here as an errand boy?" he suggested, evidently relieved by the idea.

"Oh, no; he will be treated in all respects as one of the family."

"Hadn't you better tell your mother that he was once a newsboy? She might recall the invitation."

"It would make no difference with her. It seems to me, Victor, you are prejudiced against Frank."

"No, I am not; but I like to see newsboys and telegraph messengers keep their place."

"So do I. I hope Frank will keep his place till he can find a better one."

"That isn't what I meant. How can you a.s.sociate with such a boy on an equality?"

"Because he seems well-bred and gentlemanly."

"I don't believe he gets more than three or four dollars a week," said Victor, contemptuously.

"Then I really hope his wages will soon be increased."

Victor saw that he could do Frank no harm, and was forced, out of policy, to treat our hero with more politeness than he wished.

When Frank rose to go, Mrs. Vivian desired him to send round his trunk, and take possession of his room the next day.

"She doesn't suspect that I never owned a trunk," thought Frank. "I will buy one to-morrow, though I haven't got much to put in it."

CHAPTER XV.

AT WALLACK'S THEATRE.

The next day Frank devoted what small leisure he had to the purchase of a trunk, in which he stored his small supply of clothing, leaving out, however, the clothes in which he made his first appearance in the city.

These he gave to his friend, d.i.c.k Rafferty, to whom they were a welcome gift, being considerably better than those he usually wore. d.i.c.k might, out of his earnings, have dressed better, but when he had any extra money it went for some kind of amus.e.m.e.nt. He was one of the steadiest patrons of the Old Bowery, and was often to be seen in the gallery of other places of amus.e.m.e.nt. He was surprised to hear of Frank's intended removal from the lodging-house.

"I say, Frank," he said, "you're gettin' on fast. Here you are, goin' to live in a tip-top house up-town. You'll be a reg'lar swell."

"I hope not, d.i.c.k. I don't like swells very much."

"You won't notice your old friends bimeby."