I really believe he hates me. But, of course, I
couldn't act any differently. I wasn't going to stand by and see
Pomp beaten. I should do just the same again."
The day wore away, and in the evening Frank presented himself at
the hotel, and inquired for Mr. Morton. He was ushered upstairs,
and told to knock at the door of a room in the second story.
His knock was answered by the young man in person, who shook his
hand with a pleasant smile, and invited him in.
"I am glad to see you, Frank," he said, very cordially.
"And I am much obliged to you for inviting me, Mr. Morton."
They sat down together beside the table, and conversed on a
variety of topics. Frank had numberless questions to ask about
foreign scenes and countries, all of which were answered with the
utmost readiness. Henry Morton brought out a large portfolio
containing various pictures, some on note-paper, representing
scenes in different parts of Europe.
The evening wore away only too rapidly for Frank. He had seldom
passed two hours so pleasantly.
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