“Such a promise doesn’t count,” said Mark, in a tone of authority. “You should have called a policeman.” “My promise always counts!” said Paul, firmly. “Even if given to a burglar?” said Mark, with a sneer. “Yes, even if given to a burglar.” Mark took off his hat mockingly. “Really, I wasn’t prepared to find such a lofty sense of honor--in a telegraph boy!” he said, with a satirical smile. “I am afraid you are not very well acquainted with telegraph boys,” said Paul, good naturedly. He quite understood that Mark meant to sneer at him, but being confident of Jennie Cunningham’s favor, he felt quite indifferent to the opinion of her cousin. “No,” said Mark, significantly; “I have never had the honor of associating much with that class of--persons.” “Come, Mark, don’t make yourself so disagreeable,” said Jennie, unceremoniously. “Remember that Paul is a particular friend of mine.” “Thank you, Miss Jennie,” said Paul, gratefully. “I was not aware of that,” said Mark, stiffly. “I am afraid I must be going; my time is not my own,” said Paul. “Good morning, Miss Jennie; good morning, Mr. Sterling.” Jennie Cunningham responded cordially, but Mark affected not to hear the telegraph boy’s farewell. He was not in the best of humor, having a partiality for his pretty cousin, and being disposed to regard with jealousy any kindness bestowed by her upon other boys. He was foolish enough to venture upon a remonstrance, without reflecting that this was the poorest possible way of recommending himself to the favor of his companion. “Jennie,” he commenced, “I am very much surprised at the notice you take of that low telegraph boy.” “Do you mean Paul Parton?” “Yes, if that is the fellow’s name.” “Then I wish you to understand that he is not a low boy.” “What do you know of him? What do you know of his family?” “Nothing, except that he has neither father nor mother living.” “Probably they were low persons.” “Why probably?” “You know well enough that nice boys don’t become telegraph messengers.” “Paul is a nice boy,” asserted Jennie, with spirit. “You seem to be infatuated with him,” said Mark, shrugging his shoulders. “Because I treat him with common politeness?” “Didn’t you invite him to your party next Wednesday?” “Suppose I did?” “Do you think it suitable to have a boy like that among your guests?” “Yes, I do.” “I don’t believe your mother will approve of it.” “My mother invited Paul to spend the evening whenever he had time.” This rather took Mark by surprise. He could not very well say anything in condemnation of his aunt, though he chose to lecture his cousin. “I hope you won’t expect me to take any notice of him,” he said, with dignity. “O, I don’t think he will insist upon it. I will take care that he feels himself at home.”