thly, and in due time Fletcher led out Maud. If he had known
his own interest, he would have kept silent about Harry, but he had
little discretion.

"I was rather surprised to see Walton here," he began.

"Didn't you know he was in the city?

"Yes, I met him with Oscar."

"Then why were you surprised?"

"Because his social position does not entitle him to appear in such a
company. When I first knew him, he was only a printer's apprentice."

Fletcher wanted to say printer's devil, but did not venture to do so
in presence of a young lady.

"He will rise higher than that."

"I dare say," said Fletcher, with a sneer, "he will rise in time to
be a journeyman with a salary of fifteen dollars a week."

"If I am not mistaken in Mr. Walton, he will rise much higher than
that. Many of our prominent men have sprung from beginnings like
his."

"It must be rather a trial to him to come here. His father is a
day-laborer, I believe, and of course he has never been accustomed to
any refinement or polish."

"I don't detect the absence of either," said Maud, quietly.

"Do you believe in throwing down all social distinctions, and meeting
the sons of laborers on equal terms?"

"As to that," said Maud, meeting her partner's glance, "I am rather
democratic. I could even meet the son of a tin-pedler on equal
terms, provided he were a gentleman."

The blood rushed to Fletcher's cheeks.

"A tin-pedler!" he ejaculated.

"Yes! Suppose you were the son, or relation, of a tin-pedler, why
should I consider that? It would make you neither better nor worse."

"I have no connection with tin-pedlers," said Fletcher, hastily.
"Who told you I had?"

"I only made a supposition, Mr. Fletcher."

But Fletcher thought otherwise. He was sure that Maud had heard of
his mortification at school, and it disturbed him not a little, for,
in spite of her assurance, he felt that she believed the story, and
it annoyed him so much that he did not venture to make any other
reference to Harry.

"Poor Fitz!" said Oscar, when on their way home Maud gave an account
of their conversation, "I am afraid he will murder the tin-pedler
some time, to get rid of such an odious relationship."

CHAPTER XXX.

TWO LETTERS FROM THE WEST.

The vacation was over all too soon, yet, brief as it was, Harry
looked back upon it with great satisfaction. He had been kindly
received in the family of a man who stood high in the profession
which he was a