Oscar, as the social position of Mr. Vincent was higher than that of his own family.  It gave him an excuse also for calling on Oscar in Boston.  He had tried to ingratiate himself also with Oscar’s sister Florence, but had only disgusted her with his airs, so that he could not flatter himself with his success in this direction.  Oscar had very little liking for him, but as school-fellows they often met, and Fitzgerald often called upon him.  On such occasions he treated him politely enough, for it was not in his nature to be rude without cause.

Fitz was elaborately dressed, feeling that handsome clothes would help convey the impression of wealth, which he was anxious to establish.  In particular he paid attention to his neckties, of which he boasted a greater variety than any of his school-mates.  It was not a lofty ambition, but, such as it was, he was able to gratify it.

“How are you, Fitz?” said Oscar, when he saw who was his visitor.  “Draw up a chair to the fire, and make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you, Oscar,” said Fitzgerald, leisurely drawing off a pair of kid gloves; “I thought I would drop in and see you.”

“All right!  Will you have some popped corn?”

“No, thank you,” answered Fitzgerald, shrugging his shoulders.  “I don’t fancy the article.”

“Don’t you?  Then you don’t know what’s good.”

“Fancy passing round popped corn at a party in Boston,” said the other.  “How people would stare!”

“Would they?  I don’t know about that.  I think some would be more sensible and eat.  But, I beg your pardon, I haven’t introduced you to my friend, Harry Walton.  Harry, this is a classmate of mine.  Fitzgerald Fletcher, Esq., of Boston.”

Fitzgerald did not appear to perceive that the title Esq. was sportively added to his name.  He took it seriously, and was pleased with it, as a recognition of his social superiority.  He bowed ceremoniously to our hero, and said, formally, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walton.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fletcher,” replied Harry, bowing in turn.

“I wonder who he is,” thought Fitzgerald.

He had no idea of the true position of our young hero, or he would not have wasted so much politeness upon him.  The fact was, that Harry was well dressed, having on the suit which had been given him by a friend from the city.  It was therefore fashionably cut, and had been so well kept as still to be in very good condition.  It occurred to Fitz—­to give him the short name he received from his school-fellows—­that it might be a Boston friend of Oscar’s, just entering the Academy.  This might account for his not having met him before.  Perhaps he was from an aristocratic Boston family.  His intimacy with Oscar rendered it probable, and it might be well to cultivate his acquaintance.  On this hint he spoke.

“Are you about to enter the Academy, Mr. Walton?”