Geoffrey was all enthusiasm at the proposition, most delightful to him both as regarded business and the European trip, which had always been a coveted pleasure. “I should like the trip, and more than all, I should like the business, if you think me competent to transact it,” he said. “Here I have been racking my brains all summer to try to think of something to set myself about, and now it comes to me without an effort.” “You’ll find that it will require effort enough before you get through,” returned Mr. Huntress, smiling; “but it is a great relief to my mind to have you willing to undertake it. The only drawback,” he added, growing serious, “is that Gladys may object to your running off in this unceremonious style, and for such a long trip; it would take five or six months to do all we want done.” Geoffrey’s face fell at this. In the enthusiasm of the moment over having some real business, he had not thought of this separation, and he knew well enough that Gladys would be very much opposed to it. “True,” he began, and then stopped. “Gladys will surely oppose it with all her will,” said Mr. Huntress, observing him closely. Geoffrey made no reply, he was schooling himself to do his duty. He believed that he had no right to refuse this golden opportunity. “I wonder,” mused Mr. Huntress, a sly smile curling the corners of his mouth, “how it would do to let Gladys go with you; she has always been sighing for European travel.” Geoffrey sat erect in his chair, as if suddenly galvanized, and shot a look of astonishment at his companion. “Uncle August! you know that wouldn’t do at all, unless—Aunt Alice should accompany us,” he said, in confusion. Mr. Huntress burst into a hearty laugh. “I imagine it could be managed without depriving me of my wife as well as my daughter. How would it do to have that young lady go along as—as Mrs. Geoffrey Dale Huntress?” CHAPTER XXXIII. A WEDDING IN PROSPECT. At that moment a servant appeared at the door and was about to enter upon some trifling errand. Seeing the eager, intent look upon the faces of both men, she quietly withdrew, unobserved. Geoffrey sat up, amazed. “Surely you cannot mean that—that Gladys is to go as my wife?” he exclaimed, flushing hotly. “And why not? You expect to marry Gladys some time,” was the calm reply. “Yes, I hope so, Uncle August; but I am not now in a position to properly take care of a wife.”