On reaching the house of Mr. Percival, he saw at a glance that it was the residence of a wealthy man, and the hall, into which he was first admitted, was luxurious² in its appearance. But Frank had been brought up to the enjoyment³ of wealth, and he felt more at home here than in the rather shabby boarding house in Clinton Place.

 

A colored servant opened the door.

 

"Is Mr. Percival at home?" he asked.

 

"Yas, sah."

 

"I should like to see him."

 

"What name, sah?"

 

"Frank Courtney."

 

"Step in, sah, and I will 'form Mr. Percival," said the colored servant, in a consequential⁴ tone that amused Frank.

 

Frank stepped into the hall, but he was not left long without attention. Little Freddie ran downstairs, eagerly calling out:

 

"Did you come to see me, Frank?"

 

"Yes," answered Frank, smiling; "but I came to see your grandfather, too."

 

"Come, and I will show you where he is," said the little boy, taking Frank's hand.

 

The two went up the staircase and into a handsomely furnished room, made attractive by pictures and books.

 

In a large armchair sat a pleasant-looking elderly man, of about sixty.

 

"Grandpa," said the little boy, "this is Frank. He wants to see you."

 

Mr. Percival smiled.

 

"I am glad to see you, Frank," he said. "It seems, my boy, that you are already acquainted with my daughter and grandson."

 

"Yes, sir. I was fortunate enough to meet them to-day."

 

"You relieved my daughter from some

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