Dreamer found in him and at his
hospitable fireside acted like a tonic upon his spirits and improvement
in his health both of mind and body were rapid.

Though warning him against being over much elated at his success, and an
expectation of growing suddenly either rich or famous, Mr. Kennedy was
as good as his word in regard to helping him find a market for his work.
A proud moment it was when the young author received a note from his
patron inviting him to dine with Mr. Wilmer, the editor of _The Saturday
Visitor_ which had given him the prize, and some other gentlemen of the
profession of journalism. But his pleasure was followed by quick
mortification. _What should he wear?_ Still holding the open note in
his hand, he looked down ruefully at his clothes--his only ones. For all
their brushing and darning they were unmistakably shabby--utterly unfit
to grace a dinner-party. Nearly all of the hundred dollars which had
seemed such a fortune had already been spent to pay bills incurred
during his illness and to buy provisions for the bare little home which
had sheltered him in his need and which had become so dear to his heart.
No, he could not go to the dinner, but what excuse could he make that
would seem to Mr. Kennedy sufficient to warrant him in not only
declining his hospitality but putting from him the chance of meeting the
editor of the _Visitor_ under such auspices?

At length he decided that in this case absolute frankness was his only
course.

"My dear Mr. Kennedy," he wrote,

"Your invitation to dinner has wounded me to the quick. I cannot come
for reasons of the most humiliating nature--my personal appearance. You
may imagine my mortification in making this disclosure to you, but it is
necessary."

As he was about, in bitterness of soul, to add his signature a sudden
thought caused him to pause, pen poised in air. A thought?--A temptation
would perhaps be a better word. It bade him consider carefully before
throwing away his chance. Who knew, who could tell, it questioned, how
much might depend upon this meeting? His fortune might be made by it!
Almost certainly it would lead to the sale of some more of his stories
to the _Visitor_. Mr. Kennedy believed that it would have this
result--for this purpose he had arranged it. After taking so much pains
for his benefit he would undoubtedly be disappointed--seriously
disappointed--if his plan should fail. Mr. Kennedy had been so kind, so
generous--doubtless he