looked in the mirror, and was delighted with the change in his appearance. His outer suit was of fine French cloth, all his under-garments were of costly fabric, and he found himself transformed from a country boy in badly-cut garments of coarse cloth to a finely-dressed young gentleman.
"How do you like it?" asked the gentleman, smiling.
"Very much," said Ben, sincerely.
"So do I," answered the gentleman.
"Where shall I put my old clothes?" asked Ben.
"Make a bundle of them and give them to some poor boy. You won't need them."
Ben resolved, instead, to send them home by express. They might come in use some time.
"Now," said the gentleman, "there is one thing more. Have you a pocket-book?"
"Yes, sir."
"Here is a little money in advance. You will need to carry some about with you."
He took from his own pocket-book fifteen dollars in bills and handed them to Ben.
"I wonder if I am dreaming," thought our hero. "This may be like the fairy gold I have read of."
As a matter of fact, however, they were bank-notes on the Park Bank of New York, and Ben soon had occasion to test their genuineness.
"We will go down to lunch now," said Richard Grafton, for that was the name of the gentleman, as Ben discovered.
Ben entered the large dining-room and took a seat next his employer. Though new to hotel life he copied what he saw other guests do, and no one suspected that the handsomely-dressed boy had not all his life been used to luxury.
When the meal was over, Mr. Grafton said:
"You can go where you please this afternoon, but be on hand at six o'clock. We shall go to some theatre this evening."
Mr. Grafton left the hotel. Ben took an opportunity to examine the hotel register soon after. He discovered that Mr. Grafton had arrived the day before.
This was the entry:
"Richard Grafton, London, England."
Underneath, to his amazement, he read another name:
"Master Philip Grafton, London, England."
"I suppose that means me," he said to himself. "What does it all mean? How did Mr. Grafton know that I would be here? He had never seen me. And how did he find clothes to fit me so exactly?"
There was certainly a mystery, but it was fraught with so much to the advantage of our hero that he resolved to cease asking questions and accept the gifts of fortune.
CHAPTER VIII.
An Unexpected Meeting at the Grand Opera House
When Clarence Plantagenet saw his poor country cousin marching up Broadway escorted by a policeman he was very much surprised, but on the whole he was not displeased.
"Do you know that boy?" asked his companion.
"No, certainly not," answered Clarence, coloring.
"I thought you looked as if you did."
"He looks like a boy I met in the country last summer," was the evasive answer.
"Poor devil! I wonder what he has been doing."
"Stealing, very likely," said Clarence, shrugging his shoulders.
"He doesn't look like a thief."
"Appearances are deceitful," said Clarence, oracularly.
At the supper-table, where Clarence met his father for the first time since he had called at his office, he said:
"Oh, papa, what do you think? That country boy I saw in your office has got into trouble."
"Do you mean your cousin Benjamin?"
"I suppose he is my cousin," said Clarence, reluctantly, "but I don't care about knowing him for a relation. I saw him on Broadway in charge of a policeman."
"Are you sure of this?" said Mr. Walton, much surprised.
"Yes; I knew him well enough by his clothes."
Clarence then gave an account of his meeting Ben.
"Did you speak to him?" asked his father.
"Mercy, no! Percy Van Dyke was with me. I wouldn't for a hundred dollars have him know that I had a cousin arrested, and such a countryfied-looking cousin, too."
"I think Benjamin would be a good-looking boy if he were well dressed," said Mr. Walton.
"I don't," said Clarence, decidedly.
"I am sorry to hear he has got into trouble," said Mr. Walton, who was not so mean as his son. "I think I ought to do something to help him."
"Better leave him to his fate, pa. No doubt he is a bad boy."
"I can't understand why he should be. My sister is poor but an excellent woman, and his father was an exemplary man."
"I don't think we have any call to trouble ourselves about this boy," said Clarence. "He has disgraced us, and we couldn't do anything without having it all come out."
"By the way, Clarence, I have two tickets to the Grand Opera House this evening; would you like to go?"
"Just the thing, pa; I was wondering what we should do to pass the time."
"Edwin Booth is to appear as Cardinal Richelieu. It is one of his best characters. It will be a rare treat."
"Percy Van Dyke is to be there with his sister," said Clarence. "That is the reason why he wouldn't take supper with me at Delmonico's this evening."
"You will have a chance to see your friends between the acts," said Mr. Walton. "I am perfectly willing you should become intimate with the Van Dykes. By the way, bring your friend around and introduce him to me."
"Yes, pa."
Mr. Walton had been the architect of his own fortune, while the Van Dykes were descended from an old Dutch family, and had held for over a century a high social position. Now that the merchant had money, he thirsted for social recognition – something money will not always buy.
Eight o'clock found father and son in choice orchestra seats in the Grand Opera House, and they began to look about them.
Suddenly Mr. Walton said, sharply:
"What was all that rubbish you were telling me about your cousin being arrested?"
"It was perfectly true, pa," answered Clarence, looking at his father in surprise.
"What do you say to that, then?"
Following the direction of his father's finger, Clarence's eyes rested upon his despised country cousin, elegantly dressed, sitting two rows to the front,
