“Then, Paul, you can do me a great favor. You will, won’t you?” pleaded the old man, coaxingly. “What is it?” inquired Paul, suspiciously. “Tell them how poor I am, Paul, and ask them if they won’t help me. It would be nothing to rich folks to send an old man ten dollars, or twenty, and would do me a sight of good.” “You must be crazy to ask me such a thing,” answered Paul, sternly. “Have you no shame, or do you think I have none, to beg money of strangers?” “But I am so poor, Paul,” whined the miser. “I am tired of hearing of that, Jerry,” said the boy, with an expression of disgust on his face. “It was bad enough when I believed you to be really poor, but now that I know you to have plenty of money, and are very likely rich, it makes me sick to hear you tell such falsehoods.” “Is this the way you talk to a poor old man who has brought you up?” whined old Jerry. Paul was in no wise moved by this appeal. He knew too well the extent of his obligations to the old miser. “I have always paid my way, Jerry,” he said, coldly. “Even when I was only six years old, I earned all I cost you. If you think I am any expense to you, I am willing to leave you any time.” “No, no, Paul,” said old Jerry in alarm. “I can’t spare you. I am getting old, and I don’t want to be left alone.” “Then don’t ask me to do what I am ashamed of, Jerry.” Paul arrived at the party about twenty minutes after eight. He did not care to be among the first in attendance. He was shown upstairs to the gentlemen’s reception room, and, having adjusted his toilet, went downstairs. Jennie and her mother stood at one end of the drawing room. Paul made his way towards her, and, following the example of other guests, shook hands, and offered congratulations, for it was Jennie’s birthday. “I am glad to see you, Paul,” said Jennie, with a smile, and her mother echoed the welcome. Turning away, Paul met the eyes of Mark Sterling, bent upon him with a satirical look. “Good evening,” said Paul, politely. “So you’re on hand!” said Mark, not over courteously. “As you see,” answered Paul, coolly. “That is a fine costume of yours.” Mark sustained the character of a young Highland chieftain, his dress being quite costly. “Yes,” he answered, his vanity gratified, even by a compliment from a telegraph boy. “You’ve got a new suit, haven’t you?” “Yes.” “It is a pity you went to such an expense. No one is likely to take much notice of a telegraph boy.” “O, I shall use it on duty,” answered Paul. “You are very considerate for me.” “Paul, let me introduce you to Miss Grace De Vere,” said Mrs. Cunningham. Paul bowed politely to a pretty brunette of fourteen, dressed as a flower girl. “Shall we promenade?” asked Paul, observing that many of the guests were walking in couples.