use," he added, interrupting himself and pointing with his glass at
Stuart, "he'd pack up his things to-night and come with me."

"Oh, don't urge him," remonstrated Weimer, who had travelled all over
the world in imagination, with the aid of globes and maps, but never had
got any farther from home than Montreal. "We can't spare Stuart. He has
to stop here and invent a preliminary marriage state, so that if he
finds he doesn't like a girl, he can leave her before it is too late."

"You sail at seven, I believe, and from Hoboken, don't you?" asked
Stuart undisturbed. "If you'll start at eleven from the New York side, I
think I'll go with you, but I hate getting up early; and then you see--I
know what dangers lurk in Abyssinia, but who could tell what might not
happen to him in Hoboken?"

When Stuart returned to his room, he found a large package set upright
in an armchair and enveloped by many wrappings; but the handwriting on
the outside told him at once from whom it came and what it might be, and
he pounced upon it eagerly and tore it from its covers. The photograph
was a very large one, and the likeness to the original so admirable that
the face seemed to smile and radiate with all the loveliness and beauty
of Miss Delamar herself. Stuart beamed upon it with genuine surprise and
pleasure, and exclaimed delightedly to himself. There was a living
quality about the picture which made him almost speak to it, and thank
Miss Delamar through it for the pleasure she had given him and the honor
she had bestowed. He was proud, flattered, and triumphant, and while he
walked about the room deciding where he would place it, and holding the
picture respectfully before him, he smiled upon it with grateful
satisfaction.