"Well, Mark," said Richard Hunter, on Sunday morning, "wouldn't you like to go to Sunday school with me?"
"Yes," said Mark. "Mother always wanted me to go to Sunday school, but she was so poor that she could not dress me in suitable clothes."
"There is nothing to prevent your going now. We shall be ready in about half an hour."
At the appointed time the three set out. The distance was not great, the church being situated four blocks farther up town on Fifth Avenue. They chanced to meet Mr. Greyson on the church steps.
"Good-morning, Richard. Good-morning, Henry," he said. Then, glancing at Mark, "Who is your young friend?"
"His name is Mark Manton," said Richard. "He is my ward."
"Indeed! I had not thought of you in the character of a guardian," said Mr. Greyson, smiling.
"I should like to have him enter one of the younger classes," said Richard.
"Certainly, I will gladly find a place for him. Perhaps you can take him in your class."