to this innocent remark. He recalled
the fact that on numerous occasions the original had shown not only a
lack of knowledge in far-away places, but what was more trying, a lack
of interest as well. For the moment he could not see her robbed of her
pretty environment and tramping through undiscovered countries at his
side. So the Picture's reply, when it came, was strictly in keeping with
several remarks which Miss Delamar herself had made to him in the past.

"Yes," said the Picture, politely, "and where is Abyssinia--in India,
isn't it?"

"No, not exactly," corrected Stuart, mildly; "you pass it on your way to
India, though, as you go through the Red Sea. Sloane is taking
Winchesters with him and a double express and a 'five fifty.' He wants
to test their penetration. I think myself that the express is the best,
but he says Selous and Chanler think very highly of the Winchester. I
don't know, I never shot a rhinoceros. The time I killed that elephant,"
he went on, pointing at two tusks that stood with some assegais in a
corner, "I used an express, and I had to let go with both barrels. I
suppose, though, if I'd needed a third shot I'd have wished it was a
Winchester. He was charging the smoke, you see, and I couldn't get away
because I'd caught my foot--but I told you about that, didn't I?" Stuart
interrupted himself to ask politely.

"Yes," said the Picture, cheerfully, "I remember it very well; it was
very foolish of you."

Stuart straightened himself with a slightly injured air and avoided the
Picture's eye. He had been stopped midway in what was one of his
favorite stories, and it took a brief space of time for him to recover
himself, and to sink back again into the pleasant lethargy in which he
had been basking.

"Still," he said, "I think the express is the better gun."

"Oh, is an 'express' a gun?" exclaimed the Picture, with sudden
interest. "Of course, I might have known."

Stuart turned in his chair and surveyed the Picture in some surprise.
"But, my dear girl," he remonstrated kindly, "why didn't you ask, if you
didn't know what I was talking about. What did you suppose it was?"

"I didn't know," said the Picture, "I thought it was something to do
with his luggage. Abyssinia sounds so far away," she explained, smiling
sweetly. "You can't expect one to be interested in such queer places,
can you?"

"No," Stuart answered, reluctantly, and looking steadily at the fire, "I
suppose not. But you see, m