The morning service commenced.  It must be acknowledged that Dick felt rather awkward.  It was an unusual place for him, and it need not be wondered at that he felt like a cat in a strange garret.  He would not have known when to rise if he had not taken notice of what the rest of the audience did, and followed their example.  He was sitting next to Ida, and as it was the first time he had ever been near so well-dressed a young lady, he naturally felt bashful.  When the hymns were announced, Ida found the place, and offered a hymn-book to our hero.  Dick took it awkwardly, but his studies had not yet been pursued far enough for him to read the words readily.  However, he resolved to keep up appearances, and kept his eyes fixed steadily on the hymn-book.

At length the service was over.  The people began to file slowly out of church, and among them, of course, Mr. Greyson’s family and the two boys.  It seemed very strange to Dick to find himself in such different companionship from what he had been accustomed, and he could not help thinking, “Wonder what Johnny Nolan ’ould say if he could see me now!”

But Johnny’s business engagements did not often summon him to Fifth Avenue, and Dick was not likely to be seen by any of his friends in the lower part of the city.

“We have our Sunday school in the afternoon,” said Mr. Greyson.  “I suppose you live at some distance from here?”

“In Mott Street, sir,” answered Dick.

“That is too far to go and return.  Suppose you and your friend come and dine with us, and then we can come here together in the afternoon.”

Dick was as much astonished at this invitation as if he had really been invited by the Mayor to dine with him and the Board of Aldermen.  Mr. Greyson was evidently a rich man, and yet he had actually invited two boot-blacks to dine with him.

“I guess we’d better go home, sir,” said Dick, hesitating.

“I don’t think you can have any very pressing engagements to interfere with your accepting my invitation,” said Mr. Greyson, good-humoredly, for he understood the reason of Dick’s hesitation.  “So I take it for granted that you both accept.”

Before Dick fairly knew what he intended to do, he was walking down Fifth Avenue with his new friends.

Now, our young hero was not naturally bashful; but he certainly felt so now, especially as Miss Ida Greyson chose to walk by his side, leaving Henry Fosdick to walk with her father and mother.

“What is your name?” asked Ida, pleasantly.

Our hero was about to answer “Ragged Dick,” when it occurred to him that in the present company he had better forget his old nickname.

“Dick Hunter,” he answered.

“Dick!” repeated Ida.  “That means Richard, doesn’t it?”

“Everybody calls me Dick.”

“I have a cousin Dick,” said the young lady, sociably.  “His name is Dick Wilson.  I suppose you don’t know him?”