"No, not yet," he decided. "The poor boy really loves her; and the girl
may be good enough to make the happiness of his life." He got up and
walked about the room. Suddenly he stopped, struck by a new idea. "Why
shouldn't I judge for myself?" he thought. "I've got the address--I
reckon I'll look in on the Farnabys, in a friendly way."
He sat down at the desk, and wrote a line, in the event of Amelius
being the first to return to the lodgings:
DEAR BOY,
"I don't find her photograph tells me quite so much as I want to know.
I have a mind to see the living original. Being your friend, you know,
it's only civil to pay my respects to the family. Expect my unbiased
opinion when I come back.
"Yours,
"RUFUS."
Having enclosed and addressed these lines, he took up his
greatcoat--and checked himself in the act of putting it on. The brown
miss was a British miss. A strange New Englander had better be careful
of his personal appearance, before he ventured into her presence. Urged
by this cautious motive, he approached the looking-glass, and surveyed
himself critically.
"I doubt I might be the better," it occurred to him, "if I brushed my
hair, and smelt a little of perfume.
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