"

"Then why did you invite such a fellow to call?"

"Because he thinks I live in a poor place, and it will make him mad to
find me in such a nice room."

"I see," said Mordaunt, laughing. "It isn't as a friend you invite
him."

"I'm as much his friend as he is mine."

"What makes him dislike you."

"I don't know, except because Bessie Benton is polite to me, and seems
to like my company."

Mordaunt laughed.

"That explains it fully," he said. "So you are rivals for the young
lady's hand?"

"Not quite. I ain't quite ready to be married yet. I'll wait awhile.
But Bessie's a tip-top girl."

"You must introduce me some time."

"All right. I'll try and get an invitation for you to call with me."

About eight o'clock Maurice reached Crescent Place, and, scanning the
numbers, found No. 12.

"He can't live in such a house," thought he. "It's ridiculous."

Still, he rang the bell, and, when the servant appeared, he asked,
rather hesitatingly:

"Does Gilbert Grey live here?"

"Yes, sir," said the servant. "Will you go up to his room?"

"I don't know where his room is. Will you ask him to come down?"

"There is somebody to see you, Mr. Grey," said the servant, after
mounting the stairs.

"He's come," said our hero, in a low voice, to Mordaunt. "I'll go down
and bring him up."

Tom descended the stairs and welcomed Maurice.

"I'm glad you're come, Mr. Walton," he said. "Come up stairs to my
room."

Finding that he did, after all, live in this handsome house, Maurice
expected that it was on the upper floor, and was surprised when Tom led
the way into a handsome parlor on the second floor.

"My roommate, Mr. Mordaunt, Mr. Walton," said Tom, introducing the
visitor.

"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walton," said Mordaunt. "Take
a seat," and he indicated a luxurious armchair.

Maurice sank into its depths, and looked around him with wonder. How in
the world could a fellow like Tom, earning a salary of five dollars a
week, afford to board so luxuriously? Why, it quite eclipsed even his
uncle's rooms. Handsome pictures, books, statuary, and choice
furniture, under the brilliant blaze of an argand burner, made a
beautiful apartment.

"You've got a nice room," he could not help saying.

"Won't you look at the bedroom?" said Mordaunt, politely.

Maurice looked in, and found it in proportion to the parlor.

"Gilbert and I manage to make ourselves comfortable," said Mordaunt.
"We enjoy it ou