A Boy's Fortune

"Good-evening, sir," said Rose, coldly. "I don't wish to continue the conversation."

"Don't be foolish, my dear girl. It is a fine chance for a poor vest-maker to marry a man in my position."

Rose did not deign to answer, but tried to escape. He attempted to seize her by the arm, when his hat was violently knocked over his eyes, and he came near measuring his length on the sidewalk.

CHAPTER XXII.

The Romance of a Rose

Mr. Parkinson adjusted his hat, and darted a glance of indignation at a fine-looking young man who had come to the rescue of Rose Beaufort.

"This is an outrage, sir," he said, angrily.

Clinton Randall paid no attention to the discomfited Parkinson, but asked Rose:

"Has this man annoyed you?"

"He forced his attentions upon me," answered Rose.

"If he has insulted you, I will take care that he is punished."

"Don't meddle with what is none of your business," said Parkinson, furiously. "I have a good mind to horsewhip you."

"Make the attempt whenever you please, sir," said Randall, significantly. "If ever I find you annoying this young lady again, I shall probably give you a taste of the same medicine."

"Annoying?" sneered Parkinson. "I offered to make her my wife, if you call that annoyance. Let me tell you that when a gentleman in my position offers to marry a vest-maker she has reason to feel complimented."

"She evidently does not," said Randall, not without sarcasm. "Whether she is a vest-maker or not, she is evidently a young lady and is entitled to be treated as such."

"She will be sorry for having made such a fuss," said Parkinson, spitefully. "Miss Beaufort," he continued, turning to Rose, "you need not trouble yourself to come to the store again for work, as I shall decline to give you any. You may regret having treated me with such scant courtesy."

"I had no intention of asking for more work," said Rose, coldly.

"Perhaps you have come into a fortune," sneered Parkinson.

"Enough of this!" said Randall, sternly. "This young lady has no favors to ask of you. You had better go back to your master and conduct yourself hereafter in a more becoming manner, or you may repent it."

Here was a fresh outrage for poor Parkinson. In his own eyes he was a man of very great importance, and to be told by this young man, before a common vest-maker, to go back to his master, was very humiliating. He was trying to think of some scathing retort, when Randall, with a bow, offered his arm to Rose, and they walked away together.

"I wonder whether she really doesn't care for any more work," thought Parkinson, "or is it only pretense? I dare say she will, after a while, be coming round again for vests to make. If she does, I shall have her in my power."

And the superintendent walked slowly back to the store, chafing inwardly at his ill-success.

"I hope you won't allow yourself to think of this disagreeable occurrence," said Clinton Randall, "or of this unmannerly cur."

"No, sir, thanks to your kindness, I shall have no occasion."

"He seemed spiteful. I hope it is not in his power to annoy you."

He said this, thinking that Rose might be dependent upon Parkinson for work.

"Last week he might have done so," answered Rose. "I was engaged in making vests for the store in which he is employed, and he might have refused me work. Now, fortunately, thanks to a kind lady, I have no further occasion to apply to him."

"I am heartily glad to hear it. Any connection with such a cur must be disagreeable. Has he ever annoyed you before?"

"Never; and I was much surprised to-day when he followed me from the store and pressed his attentions upon me."

"He is old enough to be your father – the old fool!" said Randall, resentfully.

It seemed to him profanation that such a man should have thought of appropriating the fresh beauty of the charming girl at his side.

"He thought I ought to regard myself honored by his proposal," said Rose, smiling, as she thought of the unromantic figure of her elderly lover.

"He has found out by this time that you hold a different opinion. If he should ever persecute you again, I hope I may be at hand to rescue you once more."

"I am not likely to meet him, and have no further occasion to make vests for a living. If you will kindly stop the next up-town car, I will not longer detain you."

"Certainly," answered Randall; and as a car was just at hand, he complied with her request.

He stood on the sidewalk, following, with his glances, the Broadway car into which he had helped Rose.

"I wish I dare follow her, and find out who she is," said Randall to himself; "but she might misinterpret my motive and class me with that elderly reprobate with whom I was compelled to interfere. What a charming girl she is! I never saw a sweeter expression, or a more beautiful complexion."

He was in a day-dream, from which he was presently roused.

"What are you staring at, Randall?" asked a young man of about his own age, slapping him on the shoulder. "You seem star-gazing."

"So I am."

"Star-gazing at midday?"

"It is a human star, Tudor. In short, it is a beautiful girl, whom I have just helped into a car."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know, I'm sure."

"An unknown divinity, eh? Tell me about it, for there is evidently a story under all this."

"A very short one. I found an elderly scamp annoying her, and knocked his hat over his eyes."

"And, after having gallantly rescued her, you helped her into a car?"

"Exactly."

"And that is the whole of it?"

"I am afraid so."