"Yours respectfully,
"PAULINE CLINTON,
"(for the Committee)."
This note reached Fletcher at a time when he was still smarting from
his disappointment in obtaining promotion from the Clionian Society.
He read it with a flushed and triumphant face. He never thought of
questioning its genuineness. Was it not true that he was a superior
reader? What more natural than that he should be invited to give
_eclat_ to the Fair by the exercise of his talents! He felt it to be
a deserved compliment. It was a greater honor to be solicited to
give a public reading than to be elected President of the Clionian
Society.
"They won't laugh at me now," thought Fletcher.
He immediately started for Oscar's room to make known his new honors.
"How are you, Fitz?" said Oscar, who was in the secret, and guessed
the errand on which he came.
"Very well, thank you, Oscar," answered Fletcher, in a stately
manner.
"Anything new with you?" asked Oscar, carelessly.
"Not much," said Fletcher. "There's a note I just received.
"Whew!" exclaimed Oscar, in affected astonishment. "Are you going to
accept?"
"I suppose I ought to oblige them," said Fletcher. "It won't be much
trouble to me, you know."
"To be sure; it's in a good cause. But how did they hear of your
reading?"
"Oh, there are no secrets in a small village like this," said
Fletcher.
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