"I can't say I have, sir. I've had so much else to think about."
"Very true, very true. I've written a few pages more, which I will read to you if you have time."
"I should like very much to hear them, sir; but I am afraid I must hurry back to the office."
"Ah, I am sorry for that," said the old gentleman, in a tone of disappointment, but he brightened up immediately.
"I'll tell you what, my young friend," he said; "you shall come and dine with me next Saturday at six, and then we will have the evening to ourselves. What do you say?"
"I shall be very happy to come, sir," said Rufus, not quite sure whether he would be happy or not.
When Saturday came he presented himself, and was very cordially received by the old gentleman. The dinner was a capital one, and served in excellent style. Mr. Vanderpool paid Rufus as much attention as if he were a guest of distinction,—read him his essay on the planets, and showed him some choice engravings. The evening passed very agreeably, and Rufus was urged to come again. He did so, and so won the favor of the old gentleman that at the end of two months he was invited to come and make his home permanently in the house in Twenty-Seventh Street.
"Thank you, Mr. Vanderpool," said our hero. "You are very kind; but I shouldn't like to leave Miss Manning and my little sister."
"Have you a little sister? Tell me about her."
"Her name is Rose, and she is a dear little girl," said Rufus, warmly.