“I _believe_ I can guess it!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands with a gesture of delight. “Oh, Geoffrey, _is_ he going to take us all to Europe? That _is_ it!” she added, exultantly. “I know by your tell-tale face. How perfectly charming!” Geoffrey smiled wisely. “You have guessed too much and too little, my sunbeam,” he said. “What a paradoxical statement, my learned Bachelor of Arts! I expected better things of you,” retorted Gladys, merrily. “You have yet to find my statement true, in spite of the seeming paradox,” he replied, with mock dignity. “Somebody is going to Europe—we are not all going, however.” “Oh, Geoff! you are not to be left at home, are you?” cried his betrothed, in a disappointed tone, her face paling at the thought. “Guess again, my lady,” he said, teasingly. “Well, I know that papa would not go without mamma, and I am sure she would never cross the ocean without him, and they certainly would not take such a trip and leave me behind,” responded Gladys, with a puzzled air. “‘Plato, thou reasonest well,’” quoted Geoffrey, an amused twinkle in his eyes; “and not to keep you longer in suspense, I will inform you that Uncle August has some business abroad, which, as he cannot make up his mind to the voyage, he thinks I can attend to, and he has proposed that I take you along with me. We are to have a six months’ trip, combine business with pleasure, and get all the enjoyment we can out of it.” Gladys gave one startled, astonished glance at her lover’s face as he concluded, and then her face clouded and her eyes dropped beneath his. “Did—papa propose that to you?” she asked, in a low tone, a burning blush suffusing her face. “Yes, dear. He said you had long wanted to go abroad, and he thought this would be a fine opportunity for both of us. Doesn’t the idea please you?” Geoffrey knew well enough what was passing in her mind, but he was so jubilant and so confident of the issue of the interview that a spirit of mischief possessed him to tease her a little. “I should love to go abroad—I have always longed to go, as papa says,” Gladys answered, gravely, and with still downcast eyes; “but—I do not think I can go without papa and mamma.” “Why?” returned Geoffrey, in a pretended surprise. “Uncle August thought, as you and I were both fresh from school, we should appreciate and enjoy the sight-seeing much better to go together.” “It would be lovely, but—Geoff, you know I cannot go—so,” she persisted, with a crimson face, and a suspicious tremor in her voice. He gathered her close in his arms, and laid her head against his breast. “Darling, forgive me for teasing you,” he said. “Of course, you cannot go—‘so’; but, Gladys, will you go with me as _my wife_?” He could feel the quick bounding of her heart at this unexpected proposition, and he knew well enough that she would raise no more objections to the trip abroad.