On the way thither he met two of his street acquaintances, who passed him without the slightest mark of recognition. This pleased Ben, for it assured him that the change which he had effected in his appearance was a considerable one.
While eating dinner, he deliberated what he should do. It was Saturday, and it would be almost too late to start for his Pennsylvania home. He decided to go to his sister's house on Madison Avenue, and make himself known there first of all. He was influenced to this partly by the desire he had to meet his cousin, who, as he knew, was making his home, while attending school, at the house of Mr. Abercrombie. He had more than once been up to that part of the city in the hope of catching a glimpse of the cousin for whom he retained his old, boyish love; but he had always shrunk, even when seeing him, from attracting his observation. He did not wish to be remembered in his rags, and so denied himself the pleasure for which he yearned. But now he was satisfied with his appearance. He felt that he was as well dressed as Charles himself, and would do no discredit to him if they were seen in the street together.
He got on board an omnibus, and took his seat. A lady soon after entered, and sat down beside him She drew out some money from her purse, and, passing it to Ben, said, "Will you have the kindness to pass up my fare, sir?"
"Certainly," said Ben, politely.
It was a small incident, but he felt, from the young lady's manner of addressing him, that she looked upon him as her equal socially, and this afforded him not a little pleasure. He wondered how he could have been content to drift about the streets so long, clothed in rags. New hopes and a new ambition had been awakened within him, and he felt that a new life lay before him, much better worth living than the old life.
These thoughts occupied him as he rode up Broadway.
At length he left the omnibus, and took the shortest route to his sister's house. When he ascended the steps, and rang the bell, he felt rather a queer sensation come over him. He remembered very well the last time he had ascended those same steps, carrying his cousin's valise. His heart beat quick with excitement, in the midst of which the door was opened by the servant.
He had already decided to ask for his cousin, preferring to make himself known to him first.
"Is Charles Marston in?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir," said the servant. "Won't you come in?"