With this difficult errand in mind, he called upon his fiancée, and, after the usual greeting, he started in on his confession. He had hardly begun it, however, when his courage failed him, and with the oozing of that his words failed him also. He did have the courage, however, to seek to reveal the exact situation in another way.
"Ethel dear," he said, awkwardly fumbling his gloves, "I want to show you something. I have a—a little surprise for you."
The girl eyed him narrowly.
"For me?" she said.
"Yes," he answered. "The fact is, it's—it's a sort of wedding present I have for you, and I think you ought to see it before—well, now. Will you go?"
Miss Tooker was interested at once, and, taking a hansom, they were driven to the Harrison Storage Warehouse on Forty-second Street Arrived there, Van Buren led her to the elevator and thence up to the small room in which lay the corroding and tell-tale packages—an enormous bulk—that were slowly but surely eating up his happiness.
"Why, Harry!" she cried as she gazed in bewilderment at the huge pile of unopened bundles. "Are these all for me?"
"Yes," gulped Van Buren, his face flaming.
"But—what do they contain?" she asked.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand copies of my—my book—'The City of Credit,'" said Van Buren, his eyes cast down.