"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?"
"No," said Dick.
"I like the name of Dick," said the young lady, with charming
frankness.
Without being able to tell why, Dick felt rather glad she did. He
plucked up courage to ask her name.
"My name is Ida," answered the young lady. "Do you like it?"
"Yes," said Dick. "It's a bully name."
Dick turned red as soon as he had said it, for he felt that he had
not used the right expression.
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