WIRED LOVE:
A ROMANCE
OF

DOTS

AND

DASHES.

BY

ELLA CHEEVER THAYER.

" T h e old, old story,"—in a new, new way.

<£>.
NEW

YORK:

Copyright, 1879, by

G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers.
LONDON : S. LOW, SON & CO.
MDCCCLXXIX.

SAMUEL STODDER,
STEREOTYPER,
90 ANN STREET, N. T.

TROW
PRINTING AND BOOK BINDING CO.
N. Y.

DEDICATION.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER
I.
II.

PAGE
SOUNDS FROM A DISTANT " C "

9

A T THE H O T E L NORMAN

»

25

III.

VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE FRIENDS

40

IV.

NEIGHBORLY CALLS

64

QUIMBY BURSTS FORTH IN ELOQUENCE

76

COLLAPSE OF T H E ROMANCE

90

V.
VI.
VII.

VIII.
IX.
X.

" GOOD-BY "

103

T H E FEAST

117

UNEXPECTED VISITORS

,

130

T H E BROKEN CIRCUIT REUNITED

148

Miss KLING TELEGRAPHICALLY BAFFLED

166

XII.

CROSSES ON T H E L I N E

185

XIII.

T H E W R O N G WOMAN

198

XIV.

QUIMBY ACCEPTS THE SITUATION

XI.

XV.

XVI.

O N E SUMMER D A Y

O. K

,

» . . . 208
215

,

239

WIRED

LOVE.

C H A P T E R I.
SOUNDS FROM A DISTANT " C . "

UST a noise, that is all.
But a very significant noise to Miss Nathalie Rogers, or Nattie, as she was usually
abbreviated ; a noise that caused her to lay aside
her book, and jump up hastily, exclaiming, with a
gesture of impatience :—
" Somebody always ' calls' me in the middle of
every entertaining chapter l"
For that noise, that little clatter, like, and yet
too irregular to be the ticking of a clock, expressed
to Nattie these four mystic letters :—
" B m — X n;"
which same four mystic letters, interpreted, meant
that the name, or, to use the technical word, " call,"
of the telegraph office over which she was present

io

Sounds from

a Distant

" C."

sole presiding genius, was " B m," and that " B m "
was wanted by another office on the wire, designated as " X n."
A little, out-of-the-way, country office, some
fifty miles down the line, was " X n," and, as
Nattie signaled in reply to the " call " her readiness to receive any communications therefrom, she
was conscious of holding m some slight contempt
the possible abilities of the human portion of its
machinery.
For who but an operator very green in the profession would stay there ?
Consequently, she was quite unprepared for the
velocity with which the telegraph alphabet of
sounds in dots and dashes rattled over the instrument, appropriately termed a "sounder," upon
which messages are received, and found herself
wholly unable to write down the words as fast as
they came.
" Dear me !" she thought, rather nervously, "the
country is certainly ahead of the city this time ! I
wonder if this smart operator is a lady or gentleman !"
And, notwithstanding all her efforts, she was
compelled to " break "—that is, open her " key,"
thereby breaking the circuit, and interrupting
" X n " with the request,

Sounds from

a Distant

" C."

n

"Please repeat."
" X n " took the interruption very good-naturedly—it was after dinner—and obeyed without
expressing any impatience.
But, alas ! Nattie was even now unable to keep
up with this too expert individual of uncertain sex,
and was obliged again to " break," with the humiliating petition,
" Please send slower !"
" Oh !" responded " X n."
For a small one, " Oh!" is a very expressive
word. But whether this particular one signified
impatience, or, as Nattie sensitively feared, contempt for her abilities, she could not tell. But
certain it was that " X n " sent along the letters
now in such a slow, funereal procession that she
was driven half frantic with nervousness in the
attempt to piece them together into words. They
had not proceeded far, however, before a small,
thin voice fell upon the ears of the agitated Nattie.
" Are you taking a message now ?" it asked.
Nattie glanced over her shoulder, and saw a
sharp inquisitive nose, a green veil, a pair of eyeglasses, and a strained smile, sticking through her
little window.
Nodding a hasty answer to the question, she
wrote down another word of the message, that she

12

Sounds from a Distant " C."

had been able to catch, notwithstanding the interruption. As she did so the voice again queried,
" Do you take them entirely by sound ?"
With a determined endeavor not to "break,"
Nattie replied only with a frown. But fate was
evidently against her establishing a reputation for
being a good operator with is X n."
" Here, please attend to this quick !" exclaimed
a new voice, and a tall gentleman pounded impatiently on the shelf outside the little window with
one hand, and with the other held forth a message.
With despair in her heart, once more Nattie
interrupted " X n," took the impatient gentleman's
message, studied out its illegible characters, and
changed a bill, the owner of the nose looking on
attentively meanwhile; this done, she bade the
really much-abused " X n " to proceed, or in telegraphic terms, to
" G. A. — the."
" G. A." being the telegraphic abbreviation for
" go ahead," and " the " the last word she had received of the message.
And this time not even the fact of its being
after dinner restrained " X n ' s " feelings, and
" X n " made the sarcastic inquiry,
" Had you not better go home and send down

Sounds from a Distant

" C"

13

some one who is capable of receiving this message ?"
Now it would seem as if two persons sixty or
seventy miles apart might severally fly into a rage
and nurse their wrath comfortably without particularly annoying each other at the moment. But
not under present conditions ; and Nattie turned
red and bit her nails excitedly under the displeasure of the distant person of unknown sex, at " X n."
But no instrument had yet been invented by which
she could see the expression on the face of this
operator at " X n," as she retorted, and her fingers
formed the letters very sharply ;
" Do you think it will help the matter at all for
you to make a display of your charming disposition ? G. A. — the —."
" I am happy to he able to return the compliment implied!" was " X n's " preface to the continuation of the message.
And now indeed Nattie might have recovered
some of her fallen glories, being angry enough to
be fiercely determined, had not the owner of the
nose again made her presence manifest by the
sudden question :
" Do you have a different sound for every word,
or syllable, or what V*
And, turning quickly around to scowl this per-

14

Sounds from

a Distant " C"

severing questioner into silence, Nattie's elbow hit
and knocked over the inkstand, its contents pouring over her hands, dress, the desk and floor, and
proving beyond a doubt, as it descended, the truth
of its label—
" Superior Black Ink !"
And then, save for the clatter of the " sounder,"
there was silence.
For a moment Nattie gazed blankly at her
besmeared hands and ruined dress, at the " sounder,"
and at the owner of the nose, who returned her
look with that expression of serene amusement
often noticeable in those who contemplate from
afar the mishaps of their fellow beings ; then with
the courage of despair, she for the fourth time
" b r o k e " " X n," saying, with inky impression on
the instrument,
" Excuse me, but you will have to wait! I am
all ink, and I am being cross-examined !"
Having thus delivered herself, she turned a
deliberately deaf ear to " X n's " response, which,
judging from the way the movable portion of the
" sounder " danced, was emphatic.
" A little new milk will take that out!" complacently said the owner of the nose, watching
Nattie's efforts to remove the ink from her dress
with blotting-paper.

Sounds from a Distant

" C"

15

" Unfortunately I do not keep a cow here !"
Nattie replied, tartly.
Not quite polite in Nattie, this. But do not the
circumstances plead strongly in her excuse ? For,
remember, she was not one of those impossible,
angelic young ladies of whom we read, but one of
the ordinary human beings we meet every day.
The owner of the riose, however, was not charitable, and drew herself up loftily, as she said in
imperative accents,
" You did not answer my question ! Do you
have to learn the sound of each letter so as to distinguish them from each other ?"
Nattie constrained herself to reply, very shortly,
"Yes!"
" Can you take a message and talk to me at the
same time ?" pursued the investigator.
" No !" was Nattie's emphatic answer, as she
looked ruefully at her dress.
" But your instrument there is going it now.
Ain't they sending you a message?" went on the
relentless owner of the nose.
At this Nattie turned her attention a moment to
what was being done " on the wire," and breathed
a sigh of relief. For " X n " had given place to
another office, and she replied,

16

Sounds from a Distant

" C"

" No ! Some office on the wire is sending to
some other office.,,
The nose elevated itself in surprise.
"Can you hear everything that is sent from
every other office?"
" Yes," was the weary reply, as Nattie rubbed
her dress.
" What!" exclaimed the owner of the nose, in
accents of incredulous wonder. " All over the
world ?"
" Certainly n o t ! only the offices on this wire ;
there are about twenty," was the impatient reply.
" Ah !" evidently relieved. " But," considering,
" supposing you do not catch all the sounds, what
do you do then ?"
" Break."
" Break ! Break what ? the instruments ?"
queried the owner of the nose, perplexedly, and
looking as if that must be a very expensive habit.
" Break the circuit—the connection,—open the
key and ask the sending office to repeat from the
last word I have been able to catch!"
Then seeing unmistakable evidence of more
questions in the nose, Nattie threw the ink-soaked
blotting-paper and her last remnant of patience
into the waste basket, and added,
" But you must excuse me, I am too busy to be

Sounds from a Distant

" C"

iy

annoy—interrupted longer, and there are books that
will give you all the information that you require ! "
So saying, Nattie turned her back, and the owner
of the nose withdrew it, its tip glistening with
indignation as she walked away. As it vanished^
Nattie gave a sigh of relief, and sat down to mourn
her ruined dress. Whatever may have been her
previous opinion, she was positive now that this
was the prettiest, the most becoming dress she had
ever possessed, or might ever possess! Only the
old, old story ! We prize most what is gone forever !
" And all that dreadful man's—or woman's—fault
at X n !" cried Nattie, savagely. Unjustly too, for
if any one was responsible for the accident, it was
the owner of the nose.
But not long did Nattie dare give way to her
misery. That fatal message was not yet received.
Glancing over the few words she had of it, she
read ; " Send the hearse
," and then she began
anxiously " c a l l i n g " " X n."
" Hearse," looked too serious for trifling. But
either " X n's " attention was now occupied in some
other direction, or else he—or she—was too much
out of humor to reply, for it was full twenty minutes before came the answering,
"Xn."
2

18

Sounds from a Distant

" C."

At which Nattie said as fiercely as fingers could,
" I have been after you nearly half an hour ! "
" Have you ?" came coolly back from " X n."
" Well, you are not alone, many are after me—my
landlord among others—not to mention a washerwoman or t w o ! "
Then followed the figure " 4," which means,
" When shall I go ahead ?"
"Waxing jocose, are y o u ? " Nattie murmured
to herself, as she replied :
" G. A.—hearse
"
" G. A.—what r
" Hearse/' repeated Nattie, in firm, clear characters.
To her surprise and displeasure " X n " laughed
—the circumstance being conveyed to her understanding in the usual way, by the two letters " H a ! "
" What are you laughing at ?" she asked.
^ At your grave mistake ! " was " X n's " answer,
accompanied by another " H a ! To convert a horse
into a hearse is really an idea that merits a smile !"
As the consciousness of her blunder dawned
upon her, Nattie would gladly have sank into
oblivion. But as that was impossible, she took a
fresh blank, and very meekly said,
" G. A.—horse
!"
With another laugh, " X n " complied, and Nattie

Sounds from a Distant

" C."

19

now succeeded in receiving the message without
further mishap.
" What did you sign ?" she asked, as she thankfully wrote the last word.
Every operator is obliged to sign his own private
"call," as well as the office "call," and " O. K." at
the close of each message.
" C." was replied to Nattie's question.
" O. K. N. B m," she then said, and added, perhaps trying to drown the memory of her ludicrous
error in politeness, " I hope another time I shall not
cause you so much trouble."
" C " at " X n " was evidently not to be exceeded
in little speeches of this kind, for he—or she—
responded immediately,
" On the contrary, it was I who gave you trouble.
I know I must certainly have done so, or you never
could have effected such a transformation as you
did. Imagine the feelings of the sender of that
message, had he found a hearse awaiting his arrival
instead of a horse !"
Biting her lip with secret mortification, but
determined to make the best of the matter outwardly, Nattie replied,
" I suppose I never shall hear the last of that
hearse ! But at all events it took the surliness out
of you."

20

Sounds from a Distant " C"

" Yes, when people come to a hearse they are not
apt to have any more kinks in their disposition ! I
confess, though," " C " went on frankly, " I was
unpardonably cross ; not surly, that is out of my
line, but cross. In truth, I was all out of sorts.
Will you forgive me if I will never do so again,-.?"
"Certainly," Nattie replied readily. " I am sure
we are far enough apart to get on without quarreling, if, as they say, distance lends enchantment!"
" Particularly when I pride myself upon my
sweet disposition!" said " C."
At which Nattie smiled to herself, to the surprise of a passing gentleman, on whom her unconscious gaze rested, and who thought, of course, that
she was smiling at him.
Appearances are deceitful!
" I fear you will have to prove your sweetness
before I shall believe in it," Nattie responded to
" G," all unaware of what she had done, or that the
strange young gentleman went on his way with the
firm resolve to pass by that office again and obtain
another smile!
' It shall be my sole aim hereafter," " C " replied;
and then asked, " Have you a pleasant office there ?"
" I regret to say no." Then looking around,
and describing what she saw—" a long, dark little
room, into which the sun never shines, a crazy and

Sounds from a Distant " C"

-2.1

a wooden chair, a high stool, desk, instruments—
that is all—Oh ! and me !"
" Last but not least," said " G ;" " but what a contrast to my office ! Mine is all windows, and in
cold days like this the wind whistles in until my
very bones rattle ! The outward view is fine., As
I sit I see a stable, a carpenter's shop, the roof of the
new Town Hall that kas ruined the town, and
"
" Excuse me,"—some one at another office on the
line here broke in—and with more politeness than
is sometimes shown in interrupting conversations
on the wire—" I have a message to send," and
forthwith began calling.
At this Nattie resumed her interrupted occupation of bewailing her spoiled dress, but at the same
time she had a feeling of pleased surprise at the
affability of " C " at " X n."
" I wonder," she thought, as she took up her
book again, and tried to bury the remembrance of
her accident therein, " I do wonder if this i C ' is
he or she /"
Soon, however, she heard " X n " " call" once
more, and this time she laid her book aside very
readily.
"You did not describe the principal part of your
office—yourself !" " C " said, when she answered
the "call."

22

Sounds from a Distant " C."

" How can I describe myself ?" replied Nattie.
" How can any one—properly ? One sees that same
old face in the glass day after day, and becomes so
used to it that it is almost impossible to notice
even the changes in it ; so I am sure I do not see
how one can tell how it really does look—unless
one's nose is broken—or one's eyes crossed—and
mine are not—or one should not see a lookingglass for a year ! I can only say I am very inky
just now !"
" Oh ! that is too bad !" " C " said; then, with a
laugh, ".It has always been a source of great wonder
to me how certain very plain people of my acquaintance could possibly think themselves handsome.
But I see it all now ! Can you not, however, leave
the beauty out, and give me some sort of an idea
about yourself for my imagination to work upon ?"
" Certainly !" replied Nattie, with a mischievous
twinkle in her eye that " C " knew not of. " Imagine,
if you please, a tall young man, with
"
" C " " b r o k e " quickly, saying,
" Oh, no ! You cannot deceive me in that way !
Under protest I accept the height, but spurn the
sex !"
"Why, you do not suppose I am a lady, do
you ?" queried Nattie.
" I am quite positive you are. There is a certain

Sounds from a Distant " C."

23

difference in the "sending," of a lady and gentleman, that I have learned to distinguish. Can you
truly say I am wrong?"
Nattie evaded a direct reply, by saying,
" People who think they know so much are often
deceived ; now I make no surmises about you, but
ask, fairly and squarely, shall I call you Mr., Miss,
or Mrs. ' C ' ? "
" Gall me neither. Call me plain ' C ' !
Or
picture, if you like, in place of your sounder, a
blonde, fairy-like girl talking to you, with pensive
cheeks and sunny
"
"Don't you believe a word of it!"—some one
on the wire here broke in, wishing, probably, to
ha^e a finger in the pie ; " picture a hippopotamus,
an elephant, but picture no fairy !"
"Judge not others by yourself, and learn to
speak when spoken to!" " C " replied to the unknown ; then " To N.—You know the more mystery
there is about anything, the more interesting it becomes. Therefore, if I envelop myself in all the
mystery possible, I will cherish hopes that you may
dream of me !"
" But I am quite sure you can, with propriety
be called Mr. ' C '—plain, as you say, I doubt not,"
replied Nattie. "Now, as it is time for me to go
home, I shall have to say good-night."

24

Sounds from a Distant " C"

" To be continued in our next?" queried " C . "
" If you are not in a,cross mood," replied Nattie.
" Now that is a very unkind suggestion, after
my abject apology. But, although our acquaintance
had a grave re-/iearse-al, I trust it will have a happy
ending!"
J^attie frowned.
" If you will promise never to say 'grave,' 'hearse]
or anything in the undertaking line, I will agree
never to say (cross !'" she said.
i(
The undertaking will not be difficult; with all
my heart!" " C " answered, and with this mutual
understanding they bade each other " good-night."
"There certainly is something romantic in talking
to a mysterious person, unseen, and miles away!"
thought Nattie, as she put on her hat. "But I
would really like to know whether my new friend
employs a tailor or a dressmaker!"
Was Nattie conscious of a feeling that it would
add to the zest of the romantic acquaintance should
the distant " C " be entitled to the use of the masculine pronoun ?
Perhaps s o ! For Nattie was human, and she
was pnly nineteen !

At

the Hotel Norman.

25

C H A P T E R II.
AT THE HOTEL NORMAN.

MISS NATTIE R O G E R S , telegraph operator,
lived, as it were, in two worlds. The one
her office, dingy and curtailed as to proportions, but from whence she could wander away
through the medium of that slender telegraph wire,
on a sort of electric wings, to distant cities and
towns ; where, although alone all day, she' did not
lack social intercourse, and where she could amuse
herself if she chose, by listening to and speculating
upon the many messages of joy or of sorrow, of
business and of pleasure, constantly going over
the wire. But the other world in which Miss
Rogers lived was very different ; the world
bounded by the four walls of a back room at
Miss Betsey Kling's. It must be confessed that
there are more pleasing views than sheds in
greater or less degrees of dilapidation, a sickly
grape-vine, a line of flapping sheets, an overflowing ash barrel; sweeter sounds than the dulcet
notes of old rag-men, the serenades of musical
cats, or the strains of a cornet played upon at

26

At the Hotel

Norman.

intervals from nine P. M. to twelve, with the evident purpose of exhausting superfluous air in the
performer's lungs. Perhaps, too, there was more
agreeable company possible than Miss Betsey
Kling.
Therefore, in the evening, Sunday and holiday,
if not in the telegraphic world of Miss Rogers,
loneliness, and the unpleasant sensation known as
" blues " were not uncommon.
Miss Betsey Kling, who, although in reduced
circumstances, boasted of certain "blue blood,"
inherited from dead and gone ancestors—who perhaps would have been surprised could they have
known at this late day how very genteel they were
in life,—rented a flat in Hotel Norman, on the second floor, of which she let one room ; not on
account of the weekly emolument received therefrom, ah, no ! but "for the sake of having some
one for company." In this respect she was truly
a contrast to Mrs. Simonson, a hundred and seventy-five pound widow, who lived in the remaining
suite of that floor, and who let every room she
possibly could, in order, as she frankly confessed,
to " make both ends meet." For a constant struggle with the " ways and means " whereby to live
had quite annihilated any superfluous gentility
Mrs. Simonson might have had, excepting only

At the Hotel Norman.

27

one lingering remnant, that would never allow her
to hang in the window one of those cheaply conspicuous placards, announcing :
" Rooms to Let."
Miss Betsey Kling was a spinster—not because
she liked it, but on account of circumstances over
which she had no control,—and her principal object in life, outside of the never-expressed, but
much thought-of one of finding her other self, like
her, astray, was to keep watch and ward over the
affairs of the occupants of neighboring flats, and
see that they conducted themselves with the propriety becoming the neighbors of so very genteel
and unexceptionable a person as Miss Betsey
Kling. In pursuit of this occupation she was
addicted to sudden and silent appearances, much
after the manner of materialized spirits, at windows opening into the hall, and doors carelessly
left ajar. She was, however, afflicted with a
chronic cold, that somewhat interfered with her
ability to become a first-class listener, on account
of its producing an incessant sniffle and spasms of
violent sneezing.
Miss Rogers going home to that back room of
hers, found herself still pondering upon the probable
sex of " C." Rather to her own chagrin, when she
caught her thoughts thus straying, too; for she had a

28

At the Hotel

Norman.

certain scorn of anything pertaining to trivial sentiment. A little scorn of herself she also had sometimes. In fact, her desires reached beyond the obtaining of the every-day commonplaces with which
so many are content to fill their lives, and she possessed an ambition too dominant to allow her to be
content with the dead level of life. Therefore it
was that any happy hours of forgetfulness of all
but the present, that sometimes came in her way,
were often followed by others of unrest and dissatisfaction. There were certain dreams she indulged
in of the future, now hopefully,- now utterly disheartened, that she was so far away from their realization. These dreams were of fame, of fame as an
authoress. Whether it was the true genius stirring
within her, or that most unfortunate of all things,
an unconquerable desire without the talent to rise
above mediocrity, time alone could tell.
Compelled by the failure and subsequent death
of her father to support herself, or become a burden upon her mother, whose now scanty means
barely sufficed for herself and two younger children,
Nattie chose the more independent, but harder
course. For she was not the kind of girl to sit
down and wait for some one to come along and
marry her, and relieve her of the burden of selfsupport. So, from a telegraph office in the country,

At the Hotel Norman.

29

where she learned the profession, she drifted to her
present one in the city.
To her, as yet, there was a certain fascination
about telegraphy. But she had a presentiment that
in time the charm would give place to monotony,
more especially as, beyond a certain point, there
was positively no advancement in the profession.
Although knowing she could not be content to
always be merely a telegraph operator, she resolved
to like it as well and as long as she could, since it
was the best for the present.
As she lighted the gas in her room, she thought
not of these things that were so often in her mindj
but of " C," and then scolded herself for caring
whether that distant individual was man or woman.
Wnat mattered it to a young lady who felt herself
above flirtations ?
So there was a little scowl on her face as she
turned around, that did not lessen when she beheld
Miss Kling standing in her door-way. For Miss
Rogers did not, to speak candidly, find her landlady
a congenial spirit, and only remained upon her
premises because being there was a lesser evil than
living in that most unhomelike of all places, a
boarding-house.
" I thought I would make you a call," the unwelcome visitor remarked, rubbing her nose, that from

30

At the Hotel

Norman.

constant friction had become red and shining; " 1
have been lonesome to-day. I usually run into
Mrs. Simonson's in the afternoon, but she has been
out since twelve o'clock. I can't make out—"
musingly, " where she can have gone ! not that she
is just the company I desire. She has never been
used to anything above the common, poor soul, and
will say ' them rooms,' but she is better than no
one, and at least can appreciate in others the culture and standing she has never attained," and Miss
Kling sneezed, and glanced at Nattie with an expression that plainly said her lodger would do well
to imitate, in this last respect, the lady in question.
" I am very little acquainted with Mrs. Simonson," Nattie replied, with a tinge of scorn curling
her lip, for, in truth, she had little reverence for
Miss Kling's blue blood. " Her lodgers like her
very much, I believe ; at least, Quimby speaks of
her in the highest terms."
" Quimby !" repeated Miss Kling, with a sniffle
of contempt. " A blundering, awkward creature,
who is always doing or saying some shocking
thing !"
" I know that he is neither elegant nor talented,
and is often very awkward, but he is honest and
kind-hearted, and one is willing to overlook other
deficiencies for such rare qualities," Nattie replied,

At the Hotel Norman.

31

a little warmly, " and so Mrs. Simonson feels, I am
confident."
Miss Kling eyed her sharply.
" Not at all ! Allow me, Miss Rogers, to know!
Mrs. Simonson endures his blunders, because, as
she says, he can live on the interest of his money,
* on a pinch,' and she thinks such a lodger something of which to boast. On a pinch, indeed !"
added Miss Kling, with a sneeze, and giving the
principal feature in her face something very like
the exclamation, " a very tight pinch it would be, I
am thinking !" Then somewhat spitefully she continued, " But I was not aware, Miss Rogers, that
you and this Quimby were so intimate ! The admiration is mutual, I suppose ?"
" There is no admiration," replied Nattie, with
a flash of her gray eyes, inwardly indignant that
any one should insinuate she admired Quimby—
honest, blundering Quimby, whom no one ever
allowed a handle to his name, and who was so clever,
but like all clever people, such a dreadful bore. " I
have only met him two or three times since that
evening you introduced us in the hall, so there has
hardly been an opportunity for anything of that
kind."
"You spoke so warmly !" Miss Kling remarked.
' However," conciliatingly, " I don't suppose by

32

At

the Hotel

Norman,

any means that you are in love with Quimby I
You are much too sensible a young lady for such
folly !"
Nattie shrugged her shoulders, as if tired of the
subject, and after a spasm of sneezing, Miss Kling
continued :
u
As you intimate, he means all right, poor fellow ! and that is more than I should be willing
to acknowledge regarding Mrs. Simonson's other
lodger, that Mr. Norton, who calls himself an artist.
I am sure I never saw any one except a convict wear
such short hair !" and Miss Kling shook her head
insinuatingly.
From this beginning, to Nattie's dismay, Miss
Kling proceeded to the dissection of their neighbors who lived in the suite above, Celeste Fishblate and her father. The former, Miss Kling
declared, was setting her cap for Quimby. Mr.
Fishblate being an unquestionably disagreeable
specimen of the genus homo, with a somewhat startling habit of exploding in short, but expressive
sentences—never using more than three consecutive
words—Nattie naturally expected to hear him even
more severely anathematized than any one else. But
to her surprise, the lady conducting the conversation declared him a " fine sensible man !" At which
Nattie first stared, and then smiled, as it occurred

At

the Hotel

Norman.

33

to her that Mr. F i s h b l a t e was a widower, a n d m i g h t
it not be that Miss K l i n g c o n t e m p l a t e d the possibility of his b e c o m i n g

that

other

self

n o t yet

attained ?
F o r t u n a t e l y Miss K l i n g did n o t observe h e r
lodger's looks, so intent was she in a d m i r a t i o n of
Mr. Fishblate's

fine

points, a n d soon took

her

leave.
After h e r d e p a r t u r e , N a t t i e changed her i n k y
dress, a n d p u t on h e r hat to g o out for s o m e t h i n g
forgotten u n t i l now.

A s she stepped into the hall,

a tall y o u n g man, with e x t r e m e l y l o n g a r m s a n d
legs, a n d mouth, that, a l t h o u g h shaded by a faint
outline of a mustache, i n v a r i a b l y
alligator,

opened

the door

suggested

of Mrs.

an

Simonson's

rooms, opposite, and seeing Nattie, started back in
a sort of n e r v o u s bashfulness.

R e c o v e r i n g himself,

he then darted out with such i m p e t u o s i t y t h a t his
foot c a u g h t in a r u g , he fell, a n d went h e a d l o n g
down stairs, d r a g g i n g with him a

fire-bucket,

at

which he clutched in a vain effort to save himself,
the t w o jointly m a k i n g a noise t h a t echoed t h r o u g h
the silent halls, a n d b r o u g h t o u t the inhabitants of
the r o o m s in alarm.
" W h a t is it ?

Is a n y one killed ?"

shrieked

from above, a voice, recognizable as that of Celeste
3

34

At the Hotel

Norman,

Fishblate—two names that could never by any possibility sound harmonious.
" What is the matter now ?" screamed Miss Kling,
appearing at her door with the query.
" Have you hurt yourself ?" Nattie asked, as she
went down to where the hero of the catastrophe sat
on the bottom stair, ruefully rubbing his elbow,
but who now picked up his hat and the fire-bucket,
and rose to explain.
" It's nothing—nothing at all, you know !" he
said, looking upward, and bowing to the voices ; " I
caught my foot in the rug, and
"
" Did you tear the rug?" here anxiously interrupted the listening Mrs. Simonson, suddenly
appearing at the banisters ; not that she felt for
her lodger less, but for the rug more, a distinction
arising from that constant struggle with the " ways
and means."
" Oh, no ! I assure you, there was no damage
done to the rug—or fire-bucket," the victim responded, reassuringly, and in perfect good faith.
" O r myself," he added modestly, as if the latter
was scarce worth speaking of. " I—I am used to
it, you know," reverting to his usual expression in
accidents of all descriptions.
" I declare I don't know what you will do

At the Hotel Norman.

35

next!" muttered Mrs. Simonson, retreating to examine the rug.
" I think you must be in love, Quimby !"
giggled Celeste ; an assertion that caused Miss
Kling to give vent to a contemptuous " Humph,"
and awakened in its subject the most excruciating
embarrassment. The poor fellow glanced at Nattie, blushed, perspired, and frantically clutching at
the fire-bucket, stammered a protest,—
" Now really—I—now !—you are mistaken, you
know!"
" But people who are in love are always absentminded," persisted Celeste, with another giggle.
" So it is useless to
"
But exactly what was useless did not appear, as
at this point a stentorian voice, the voice of Miss
Kling's "fine, sensible man," roared,
" Enough !"
At which, to Quimby's relief, Celeste, always in
mortal fear of her father, hastily withdrew. Not
so Miss Kling. She silently waited to see if Nattie
and Quimby would go out together, and was
rewarded by hearing the latter ask, as Nattie made
a. movement towards the door,—
" May I—might I be so bold as to—as to ask to
be your escort ?"
" I should be pleased," Nattie answered, adding

36

At the Hotel

Norman.

with a mischievous glance, but in a low tone, aware
of the listening ears above,—
"That is, if you will consent to dispense with
the fire-bucket!"
Quimby started, and dropping the article in
question, as if it had suddenly turned red-hot,
ejaculated,—
" Bless my soul ! really I—I beg pardon, I am
sure !" then bashfully offering his arm, they went
out, while Miss Kling balefully shook her head.
" So, Celeste will insist upon it that you are in
love, because you tripped and fell down stairs !"
Nattie said, by way of opening a conversation as
they walked along—a remark that did not tend to
lessen his evident disquietude. And having now
no fire-bucket, he clutched at his necktie, twirling
it all awry, not at all to the improvement of his
personal appearance, as he replied,—
" Oh ! really, you know ! its no matter ! I—I
am used to it, you know !"
" Used to falling in love ?" queried Nattie, with
raised eyebrows.
" No—no—the other, you know, that is—" gasped
Quimby, hopelessly lost for a' substantive. " I
mean, it's a mistake, you know," then with a desperate rush away from the embarrassing subject, " Did

At the Hotel Norman.

37

you know we—that is, Mrs. Simonson, was going
to have a new lodger ?"
" N o , is she?" asked Nattie.
" Yes, a young lady coming to-morrow, a—a sort
of an actress—no, a prima donna, you know. A
Miss Archer. If you and she should happen to
like each other, it would be pleasant for you, now
wouldn't it?" asked Quimby eagerly, with a devout
hope that such might be, for then should he not be a
gainer by seeing more often the young lady by his
side, whose gray eyes had already made havoc in
his honest and susceptible heart.
" I t would be pleasant," acquiesced Nattie, in
utter unconsciousness of Quimby's selfish hidden
thought ; " for I am lonely sometimes. Miss Kling
is not—not"
"Oh, certainly! of course not!" Quimby responded sympathetically and understandingly, as
Nattie hesitated for a word that would express her
meaning. " They never are very adaptable—old
maids, you know !"
"But it isn't because they are unmarried," said
Nattie, perhaps feeling called upon to defend her
future self, "but because they were born so !"
"Exactly, you know, that's why no fellow ever
marries them !" said Quimby, with a glance of bashful admiration at his companion.

38

At the Hotel

Norman.

Nattie laughed.
" And this Miss Archer. Did you say she was a
prima donna?" she questioned.
"Yes—that is, a sort of a kind of a one, or going
to be, or some way musical or theatrical, you know,"
was Quimby's lucid reply. "I'll make it a point to
—to introduce you if you will allow me that
pleasure ?"
" Certainly," responded Nattie, and added, " I
shall be quite rich, for me, in acquaintances soon, if
I continue as I have begun. I made a new one on
the wire to-day."
" On the—I beg pardon—on the what ?" asked
Quimby, with visions of tight-ropes flashing
through his mind.
" On the wire," repeated Nattie, to whom the
phrase was so common, that it never occurred to
her as needing any explanation.
" O h !" said the puzzled Quimby, not at all comprehending, but unwilling to confess his ignorance.
" The worst of it is, I don't know the sex of my
new friend, which makes it a little awkward," continued Nattie.
Quimby stared.
" Don't—I beg pardon—don't know her—his—
sex ?" he repeated, with wide-open eyes.
" N o , it was on the wire, you know !" again ex-

At the Hotel Norman.

39

plained Nattie, privately thinking him unusually
stupid ; " about seventy miles away. We first quarreled and then had a pleasant talk."
" Talk—seventy miles—" faltered the perplexed
Quimby; then brightening, " Oh ! I see ! a telephone, you know !"
" No indeed !" replied Nattie, laughing at his
incomprehensibility. " W e don't need telephones.
We can talk without—did you not know that ? And
what is better, no one but those who understand
our language can know what we say !"
" Exactly !" answered Quimby, relapsing again
into wonder. "Exactly—on the wire !"
" Yes, we talk in a language of dots and dashes,
that even Miss Kling might listen to in vain. And
do you know," she went on confidentially, " somehow, I am very much interested in my new friend.
I wish I knew—its so awkward, as I said—but I
really think it's a gentleman !"
" Exactly—exactly so !" responded Quimby,
somewhat dejectedly. And during the remainder
of their walk he was very much harassed in his
mind over this interest Nattie confessed in her
new friend—" on the wire,"—who would appear as
a tight-rope performer to his perturbed imagination. And he felt in his inmost heart that it would
be a great relief to his mind if this mysterious per-

40

Visible and Invisible

Friends,

son should prove a lady, even though, if a gentleman, he was many miles away. For Quimby, with
all his obtusity, had an inkling of the power of
mystery, and was already far enough on the road
to love to be jealous.
Of these thoughts Nattie was of course wholly
unaware, and chatted gayly, now of the distant
" C " and now of the coming Miss Archer, to her
somewhat abstracted, but always devoted companion.

CHAPTER

III.

VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE FRIENDS.

ITH perhaps one or two less frowns tha*i
usual at the destiny that compelled her
to forego any morning naps, and be up
and stirring at the early hour of six o'clock, Nattie
arose next morning, aware of a more than accustomed willingness to go to the office. And immediately on her arrival there, she opened the key,
and said, without calling, just to ascertain if her
far-away acquaintance would notice it,—
" G. M. (good morning) C !"

Visible and Invisible Friends.

41

Apparently " C " had his or her ears on the
alert, for immediately came the response,
" G. M., my dear !"
A form of expression rather familiar for so
short an acquaintance, that is, supposing " C " to
be a gentleman. " But then, people talk for the
sake of talking, and never say what they mean on
the wire," thought Nattie. Besides, did not the
distance in any case annul the familiarity ? Therefore, without taking offense, even without comment, she asked :
" Are we to get along to-day without quarreling ?"
" O h ! it is you, is it, < N ' ?" responded " C,"
' I thought so, but wasn't quite sure. Yes, you,
may ' break' at every word, and I will still be
amiable."
" I should be afraid to put you to the test,"
replied Nattie, with a laugh.
" D o you then think me such a hopelessly illnatured fellow ?" inquired " C."
" Fellow !" triumphantly repeated Nattie. " Be
careful, or you will betray yourself!"
" Ha, ha !" laughed " C." " Stupid enough of
me, wasn't it ? But it only proves the old adage
about giving a man rope enough to hang himself.'*
"Don't mention old adages, for I detest them !'

42

Visible and Invisible

Friends,

said Nattie. " Especially that one about the early
bird and the worm. But I fear, as a ^j^tery, you
are not a success, Mr. i C "
" A very bad attempt at a pun," said " C." " I
trust, however, you will not desert me, now your
curiosity is satisfied, Miss * N.' ?"
" Don't be in such a hurry to miss me. I have
said nothing yet to give you that right," Nattie
replied.
"Nevertheless, it's utterly impossible not to
miss you. I missed you last night after you had
gone home, for instance. But you, & great, hulking
fellow ! No, indeed ! In my mind's eye
"
But what was in " C's" mind's eye did not just
then appear, for at this interesting point some
one at Naftie's window, saying, " I would like to
send a message," obliged her reluctantly to interrupt him with,
" Excuse me a moment, a customer is waiting."
She then turned as much of her attention as she
could separate from " C " to the customer, enabled,
perhaps, to answer the volley of miscellaneous
questions poured upon her with unusual affability,
on account of the settlement—and in the right
direction !—of that vexed question of " C's " sex.
But she could not help thinking, as she glanced
at the message finally written, and handed to her,

Visible and Invisible Friends.

43

that had the writer attended a little more to the
spelling-book, and a little less to the accumulation
of diamond rings, it might have been a very wise
proceeding. But perhaps
" Meat me at the train," was sufficiently intelligible for all purposes.
" What was it about your mind's eye ?" Nattie
asked over the wire, at the first opportunity.
" C " was again on the alert, without being
called, for the answer came, after a moment, just
long enough for him to cross the room, perhaps.
" As I was saying, in the eye aforesaid, methinks I see a tall slim young lady with blue eyes
and light hair, and dimples that come into her
cheeks when I stupidly betray my sex."
As " C " said this, Nattie glanced into the glass
just over her head at the reflection of her face. A
face whose expression was its charm ; that never
could be called pretty, but that nevertheless suggested a possibility—only a possibility, of being
handsome. For there is a vast difference between
pretty and handsome. Pretty people seldom know
very much ; but to be handsome, a person must
have brains ; an inner as well as an outer beauty.
" How fortunate it is you are not near enough
to be disenchanted !" Nattie replied to " C." " Your

44

Visible and Invisible

Friends.

mind's eye is very unreliable. Tall! why, I'm only
five feet! never was guilty of a dimple, and my
eyes are of some dreadfully nondescript color."
u
If you are only five feet, you never can look
down on me, which is a great consolation," " C " responded. " And for the rest imagination will clothe
the unseen with all possible beauty and grace."
" I am sure I am perfectly willing you should
imagine me as beautiful as you please," replied
Nattie, " As long as we don't come face to face,
which in all probability we never shall, you will
not know how different from the real was the
ideal."
" Please don't discourage me so soon, for I hope
sometime we may clasp hands bodily as we do now
spiritually, on the wire—for we do, don't we ?" said
" C " asserting before he questioned.
"Certainly—here is mine, spiritually !" responded Nattie, without the least hesitation, as she thought
of the miles of safe distance between. " Now may
I ask—"
" Oh ! come, come! this will never do ! You
are getting on altogether too fast for people
who were quarreling so yesterday !" broke in a
third party, who signed, " Em." and was a young
lady wire-acquaintane of Nattie's, some twenty
miles distant.

Visible and Invisible Friends.

45

" You think the circuit of our friendship ought
to be broken ?" queried Nattie.
" A h ! leave that to time and change^ by which
all circuits are broken," remarked " C>"
" Yes, but such a sudden friendship is sure to
come to a violent end," Em. said. " Suppose now
I should report you for talking so much—not to
say flirting—on the wire, which is against the rules
you know ?"
" In that event I should know how to be revenged,
replied " C." " I should put on my 'ground' wire and
cut off communication between you and that little
fellow at Z!"
Em. laughed, and perhaps feeling herself rather
weak on that point, subsided, and Nattie began,
" Sentiment—"
But the pretty little speech on that subject she
had all ready was spoiled by an operator—who evidently had none of it in his soul—usurping the wire
with the prefaced remark,
" Get out!"
The wire being unusually busy, this was all the
conversation Nattie and " C " had during the day,
but just before six o'clock came the call,
" B m—B m—B m—X n."
" B m," immediately responded Nattie.
" I merely want to ask for my character before

46

Visible and Invisible

Friends,

saying g. n. (good night). Haven't I been amiable
to-day ?" was asked from X n.
" Very, but there is no merit in it, as Mark Tapley would say," replied Nattie. " You had no
provocation."
" Now I flattered myself I had i come out
strong !' Alas ! what a hard thing it is to establish
one's reputation," said " C," sagely ; " but I trust
to Time, who, after all, is a pretty good fellow to
right matters, notwithstanding a dreadful careless
way he has of strewing crow's feet and wrinkles."
" Has he dropped any down your way ?" asked
Nattie.
" Hinting to know my age now, are you ? Oh !
curiosity ! curiosity ! Yes, I think he has implanted a perceptible crow's foot or two ; but he
has spared the hairs of my head, and for that I am
thankful ! Did you ever see an aged operator ? I
never did, and don't know whether it's because
electricity acts as a sort of antidote, or whether
they grow wise as they grow old, and leave the
business. The case is respectfully submitted."
" Your organs of discernment must be very fully
developed," Nattie replied. " It is fortunate I am
too far away to be analyzed personally; but I
don't think I will stay after hours to discuss these

Visible and Invisible Friends.

47

things to-night. I am tired, for I have had a run of
disagreeable people to-day. So g. n."
" G. n., my dear," said the gallant " C," in
whose composition bashfulness seemed certainly to
have no part. But then—as Nattie previously had
thought—he was along way off.
It must be confessed " C " could hardly fail to
have been flattered had he known how full Nattie's
thoughts were of him, as she went home that night.
A little foolish in the young lady, who rather prided
herself on being strong-minded, this deep interest;
but hers was a lonely life, poor girl, and " C " was
certainly entertaining " over the wire," whatever
he might be in a personal interview—of course,
not very likely to occur. No ! it was all " over the
wire !"
As she reached her own door, absorbed in these
meditations, she heard the sound of a merry laugh
over in Mrs. Simonson's, and saw a large trunk in
the hall. From this she inferred that Miss Archer
had arrived, a fact Miss Kling confirmed, with
uplifted eyebrows, and the remark,
" There must be something wrong about a
young woman who has three immense trunks !"
Although Nattie felt a desire to make this newcomer's acquaintance, it was less strong than it
might have been had she arrived a week sooner;

48

Visible and Invisible

Friends.

for it was undoubtedly true that the interest she
had in her new invisible friend far exceeded that
towards a possible visible one. Such is the power
of mystery !
The office now possessed a new charm for her.
To the surprise of an idle clerk in an office over
the way, who had always noted how particular she
was to arrive at exactly eight A. M., and to leave
precisely at six P. M., she suddenly began to
appear before hours in the morning, and to stay
after hours at night. Of course this banighted
person was not aware that by so doing she secured
quiet chats with " C," uninterrupted, and without
being told in the middle of some pretty speech to
"Shut u p ! " or to "Keep out !" by some soured
and inelegant operator on the line, to whom
the romance of telegraphy had long ago given
place to the monotonous, poorly-paid, everyday
reality.
And it came to pass that " C " soon shared all
her daily life, thoughts and troubles. Annoyances
became lighter because she told him, and he
sympathized. Any funny incident that occurred
was doubly funny, because they laughed over it
together, and so it went on.
That "good-night, dear," previously unchallenged, became a regular institution; and still, on

Visible and Invisible Friends.

49

account of those long miles between them, Nattie
made only a faint remonstrance when his usual
morning salutation grew into " Good-morning,
little five-foot girl at B m !" then was shortened
to " Good-morning, little girl !"
And all this time it never occurred to them that
excepting " N " was for Nattie, and " G " for Clem,
they knew really nothing about each other r not
even their names.
Thus the acquaintance went on, amid much
banter from the before-mentioned " Em.," and
interruptions from disgusted old settlers*
It was by no means to the satisfaction of
Quimby, that Miss Rogers should thus allow the
telegraphic world to supersede the one in which
he had a part. That intimacy with Miss Archer,
of which he had dreamed, as a means of improving
his own acquaintance with her towards whom his
susceptible heart yearned, did not make even a
beginning. In fact, what with Nattie being engaged all day, and stopping after hours for a quiet
talk with " C," and Miss Archer having many evening engagements, the two had never even met.
And how a young man was to make himself agreeable in the eyes of a young lady he only caught a
glimpse of occasionally, was a problem quite
beyond solution by the brain of Quimby.
4

5<3

Visible and Invisible

Friends.

Two or three times, in his distraction of mind,
he had stood in very light clothing, about Nattie's
hour of returning home, full twenty-five minutes
at the outer door of the hotel, with a cold wind
blowing on him. But Nattie, utterly unconscious
of this devotion, was enjoying the conversation of
" C ;" and so at last, half frozen, poor Quimby was
compelled to retreat, his object unaccomplished.
He would willingly have wandered about the
halls for hours, and waylaid her, had it not been
that the fear of those two terrific ones, Miss Kling
and Mr. Fishblate, " catching him at it," prevailed
over all other considerations. As for going to her
office, Quimby, in his bashfulness, dared not even
walk through the street containing it, lest she
should penetrate his motives, and be offended at his
presumption. Under these circumstances he began
to despair of ever having the opportunity, to say
nothing of the ability, of making an impression,
when one afternoon he chanced to meet Miss
Archer in the vicinity of Nattie's office, and was
instantly overwhelmed by a brilliant idea ; that
was to ask Miss Archer-—to whom he had talked
much of Nattie during their short acquaintance—
if she would call on her with him, omitting th&fact
that he dared not go alone.
Miss Archer, a little curious to see the lady

Visible and Invisible Friends,

51

with whom, she was secretly convinced, Quimby
was in love, readily consented to the proposition ;
and so it came to pass that Nattie was interrupted
in an account she was giving " C " of a man who
wanted to send a message to his wife, and seemed
to think " My wife, in Providence," all the address
necessary, by the unexpected apparition of Quimby,
accompanied by a stylish and handsome young
lady.
" I—I beg pardon, if I—if I intrude, you know,"
he stammered, beginning to wish he had not done
it, as Nattie,with an "Excuse me, visitors," to " C , "
rose and came forward. " But I—I brought Miss
Archer ! To make you acquainted, you know."
" I am indebted to you for that pleasure," Nattie
said, with a smile, as she took the hand Miss
Archer extended, saying,
" I have heard Quimby speak about you so
much, I already feel acquainted."
Quimby blushed, and nervously fingered his
necktie.
" Such near neighbors—so lonesome—thought
you ought to know each other," he said confusedly
" Yes, I began to fear we were destined never to
meet," Nattie replied, as she held the private door
open for her visitors to enter, a proceeding contrary to rules, but she preferred rather to trans-

52

Visible and Invisible

Friends,

gress in this way, than in manners, and leave her
callers standing out in the cold.
" I don't know as we ever should, had it not
been for Quimby," said Miss Archer, glancing
curiously around the office. " I believe I never
was in a telegraph office before. Don't you find
the confinement rather irksome ?"
" Sometimes," Nattie replied ; " but then there
always is some one to talk with ' on the wire,' and
in that way a good deal of the time passes."
" Talk with—on the wire ?" queried Miss
Archer, with uplifted eyebrows. " What does
that mean ? Do tell me, I am as ignorant as a
Hottentot about anything appertaining to telegraphy. Nearly all I know is, you write a message, pay for it, and it goes."
Nattie smiled and explained, and then turning
to Quimby, asked,
"You remember my speaking about ' C / and
wondering whether a gentleman or lady ?"
" Oh, yes !" Quimby remembered, and fidgeted
on his chair.
" He proved to be a gentleman."
" Oh, yes; exactly, you know !" responded
Quimby, looking anything but elated.
" It must be very romantic and fascinating to
talk with some one so far away, a mysterious

Visible and Invisible Friends*

53

stranger too, that one has never seen," Miss Archer
said, her black eyes sparkling. " I should get up a
nice little sentimental affair immediately, I know I
should, there is something so nice about anything
with a mystery to it."
" Yes, telegraphy has its romantic side—it
would be dreadfully dull if it did not," Nattie answered.
" But—now really," said Quimby, who sat on
the extreme edge of the chair, with his feet some
two yards apart from each other ; " really, you
know, now suppose—just suppose, your mysterious
invisible shouldn't be—just what you think, you
know. You see, I remember one or two young
men in telegraph offices, whose collars and cuffs
are always soiled, you know !"
" I have great faith in my ' C,' " laughed Nattie.
" It would be dreadfully unromantic to fall in
love with a soiled invisible, wouldn't it," said Miss
Archer, with an expressive shrug of her shoulders.
Nattie colored a little, and answered hastily ;
" Oh ! it's only fun, you know ;" at which
Quimby brightened, and Miss Archer inquired
ga'yly,
" Pour passer le temps ?"
Nattie nodded in reply, as she took a message
from a lady, who had only a few words to send,

54

Visible and Invisible

Friends.

but found it necessary to ask about fifteen questions, and relate all her recent family history, concluding with the birth of twins, before being satisfied her message would go all right,—a proceeding
that made Quimby stare, and afforded Miss Archer
much amusement.
" Oh ! that is nothing !" Nattie said, in answer
to the latter's significant laugh, when the customer
had retired. " Some very ludicrous incidents occur
almost daily, I assure you. Truly, the ignorance
of people in regard to telegraphy is surprising ;
aggravating too, sometimes. Just imagine a person
thinking a telegraph office is managed on the same
principle as those stores where they at first charge
double the value of the goods, for the sake of giving people the pleasure of beating them down !
It was only yesterday that a woman tried to coax
me to take off ten cents, and then snarled at me
because I wouldn't, and declared she would patronize some other office next time, as if it mattered to
me, except to wish she might ! And there was
some one calling on the wire with a rush message
all the time she was detaining me !"
"They think you ought to be harnessed with a
punch, like a horse-car conductor," said Miss
Archer, laughing, and added,
" I wish I knew how to telegraph, I would have

Visible and Invisible Friends.

55

a chat with your (C
I am getting very much
interested in him !"
Quimby twirled his hat uneasily.
" But—I beg pardon, but he may be a soiled
invisible, you know !" he hinted, seemingly determined to keep this possibility uppermost.
Before Nattie could again defend her " C " a
woman, covered with cheap finery, thrust her head
into the window.
" How much does it cost to telegram ?" she asked.
" To what place did you wish to send ?" Nattie
inquired.
With a look, as if she considered this a very
impertinent question, the woman replied, with a
slight toss of her head,
" It's no matter about the place, I only want to
know what it costs to telegram !"
" That depends entirely on where the message is
going," answered Nattie, with a glance at Miss
Archer.
"Oh, does it?" said the woman, looking surprised. " Well, to Chicago, then."
Nattie told her the tariff to that city.
" Is that the cheapest ?" she then asked. " I
only want to send a few words, about six."
" The price is the same for one or ten words,"
said Nattie rather impatiently.

$6

Visible and Invisible

Friends.

The woman gave another surprised stare.
" That's strange !" she said incredulously.
" Well "—moving away—-" I'll write then ; I am
not going to pay for ten words when I want to
send six.''
"That is a specimen of the ignorance you were
just speaking of, I presume," laughed Miss Archer,
as soon as the would-be sender was out of hearing.
" Yes," replied Nattie, " it's hard to make them
believe sometimes that everything less than ten
words is a stated price, and that we only charge per
word after that number. And, speaking of ignorance, do you know I once actually had a letter
brought me, all sealed, to be sent that way by telegraph."
Miss Archer laughed again, and Quimby inquired,
" I—I beg pardon, but did I understand that the
last came within your experience?"
"Yes," Nattie replied, "and I had a young
woman come in here once, who asked me to write
the message for her, and after I had done so, in a
somewhat hasty scrawl, she took it, looked it all
over critically, dotted some ' i's,' and crossed some
' t's,' I all the time staring, amazed, and wondering
if she supposed I could not read my own* hand-writ-

Visible and Invisible Friends.-

57

ing, then scowled and threw it down disgustedly
saying, ' John never can read that! I shal] have to
write it myself. He knows my writing !' "
" Can such things be !" cried Miss Archer.
" But," asked Quimby, from his uncomfortable
perch on the edge of the chair, " Isn't there a—
a something—a facsimile arrangement?"
. " I believe there is, but it is not yet perfected,"
replied Nattie.
" Ah, well ! then the young woman was only
in advance of the age," said Miss Archer; "and
what with that and the telephone, and that dreadful
phonograph that bottles up all one says and disgorges at inconvenient times, we will soon be able
to do everything by electricity ; who knows but
some genius will invent something for the especial
use of lovers? something, for instance, to carry in
their pockets, so when they are far away from
each other, and pine for a sound of i that beloved
voice,' they will have only to take up this electrical
apparatus, put it to their ears, and be happy. Ah !
blissful lovers of the future !"
" Yes!—I—yes, that would be a good idea !"
cried Quimby eagerly ; then instantly fearing he
had betrayed himself, turned red, and clutched at
the mustache that eluded his grasp. Miss Archer
looked at him and smiled, and Nattie was about to

58

Visible and Invisible

Friends.

expound further when she heard " C " asking on
the wire,
" N, haven't your visitors gone yet ? Tell them
to hurry !"
"You wouldn't say so," Nattie responded to
him, " if you knew what a handsome young lady
one of my two visitors is. We have been talking
about you, too."
" Introduce me, please do," said " C."
" What are you doing, now ?" asked Miss Archer,
watchful of Nattie's smiling face.
Leaving the key open, Nattie explained, to
Quimby's unconcealed dissatisfaction; but Miss
Archer was delighted.
" Oh ! do introduce me ! Can you any way ?"
she said.
Nattie nodded affirmatively, and taking hold of
the key, wrote, " She is as anxious as you are. So
allow me to make you acquainted with Miss Archer,
a young lady with the prettiest black eyes I ever
saw!"
" Is she an operator ?" asked " C."
" Doesn't know a dot from a dash," Nattie answered him.
"Then tell her in plain language, that this is
the happiest moment of my life, and also that
black eyes are my especial adoration !"

Visible and Invisible Friends.

59

" What have you been telling him about me,
you dreadful girl ?" queried Miss Archer, shaking
her head remonstratingly when this was repeated
to her. " But you may inform him I am delighted
to make his acquaintance, and hope he has
curly hair, because it's so nice to pull !"
"With the hope of such a happy occurrence,
I will hereafter do up my hair in papers," " C " replied when Nattie had repeated this to him. " But
do not slight your other visitor."
" Shall I introduce you ?" asked Nattie holding
the key open, and turning to Quimby, who had
betrayed various symptoms of uneasiness while
this conversation was going on, and who now
grasped his hat firmly, as if to throw it at the little
sounder that represented the offending " C," and
answered,
" Oh, no ! I—really I—I beg. pardon, but it's
really no matter about me—you know !"
" He says he is of no consequence," Nattie said
to " C."
" H e !" repeated " C , " " a he, is it? Ought I to
be jealous ? Is it you, or our black-eyed friend who
is the attraction ?"
Nattie replied only with a ha !
" Is he talking now ?" asked Miss Archer,

6o

Visible and Invisible

Friends.

mindful of Nattie's smile, and nodding towards the
clattering sounder, at which Quimby was scowling.
" No, some other office is sending business now,
so our conversation is suspended," answered Nattie,
as much to Quimby's relief as to Miss Archer's
regret.
" I shall improve the acquaintance, however,"
the latter said. " I am very curious to know how
he looks, aren't you ?"
" Yes, but I do not suppose I ever shall," Nattie
answered.
" Then you—I beg pardon, but you never expect
to see him?" queried Quimby, with great earnestness.
" In all probability we never shall meet. I think
I should be dreadfully embarrassed if we should,"
Nattie replied, as she handed the day's cash to the
boy who just then came after it. " Face to face we
would really be strangers to each other."
Quimby evinced more satisfaction at this than
the occasion seemed to warrant, as Nattie noticed,
with some surprise, but several customers claiming
her attention, all at once, and all in a hurry, she was
kept too busy for some time, to think upon t the
cause.
As soon as she was at leisure, Miss Archer, with

Visible and Invisible Friends.

61

the remark that they had made an unpardonably
long call, arose to go.
" But you must certainly come again," Nattie
said, cordially, already feeling her to be an old
friend*
" Indeed I shall," she answered, in the genial
way peculiar to her. " You have a double attraction
here, you know. Can I say good-by to ' C V "
" I fear not, as the wire is busy," replied Nattie.
" But I will say it for you as soon as possible."
"Yes, tell hini, please, that I will see him—I
mean, hear the clatter he makes—again soon. You,
I shall see at the hotel, I hope, now we have met."
" Oh, yes !" Nattie replied. " I am very much
indebted to Quimby for making us acquainted,"
" Oh ! really now, do you mean it ?" exclaimed
Quimby, with sudden delight. " I am so glad I've
done something right at last, you know ! Always
doing something wrong, you know !" then hugging
his hat to his breast, and speaking in a confidential
whisper, he added, to the great amusement of the
two girls, " I have a presentiment—a horrible presentiment—I'm always making mistakes, you see.
I'm used to it, but I couldn't get used to that, you
know—that some day I shall marry the wrong
woman !"
So saying, and with a last glance of implacable

62

Visible and Invisible

Friends,

dislike at the sounder, Quimby bowed awkwardly,
and departed with the laughing Miss Archer.
Soon after their departure, " C " asked,
" Has Black-Eyed Susan gone ?"
" Yes," responded Nattie. " She left a good-by
for you, and means to improve your acquaintance."
" Thrice happy I ! But about this he ? Who is
this he? I want to know all about him. Is he a
hated rival ?"
" Ha ! I never heard him say so, but I will ask
him if you wish. He lives in the same building
with me, and brought Miss Archer, a fellow-lodger,
down to introduce her."
" Do you ever go to balls, concerts, theaters, or
to ride with him ?" asked " C," who seemed determined to make a thorough investigation of matters.
" Dear me ! No ! He never asked me !"
" D o you wish he would ?" persisted " C."
" Of course I do !" replied Nattie, somewhat
regardless of truth.
" It is my opinion I shall be obliged to come and
look after you," " C " replied, at this admission.
"But you wouldn't know whether you were
looking after the right person or not, when you
were here !" Nattie said, with a smiling face and
sparkling eyes turned in the direction of an urchin,
flattening his nose against her window-glass, who

Visible and Invisible Friends.

63

immediately fled, overwhelmed with astonishment,
at being, as he supposed, so smiled upon.
"And why wouldn't I?" questioned " C . "
"Because I should recognize you immediately,
and should pretend it was not I, but some substitute," replied Nattie.
" You seem to be very positive about recognizing
me. Is your intuitive bump so well-developed as
all that ?" asked " C."
" Yes," Nattie responded. " And then you know
there would be a twinkle in your eye that would
betray you at once."
" Indeed ! We will see about that, young lady.
But now, as a customer has been drumming on my
shelf for the past five minutes, in a frantic endeavor
to attract my attention, and has by this time worked
himself into a fine irascible temper, because I will
not even glance at him, I must bid you good-night,
with the advice, watch for that twinkle, and be sure
you discover i t ! "

6\

Neighborly Calls.

CHAPTER

IV.

NEIGHBORLY CALLS.

%jfN the opinion of Miss Betsey Kling, a lone
JH[ young woman, who possessed three large
i3& trunks, a more than average share of good
looks, and who went out and came in at irregular
and unheard-of hours, was a person to be looked
after and inquired about; accordingly, while Miss
Archer was making the acquaintance of Nattie, and
of the invisible " C , " Miss Kling descended upon
Mrs. Simonson, with the object of dragging from
that lady all possible information she might be possessed of, regarding her latest lodger. As a result,
Miss Kling learned that Miss Archer was studying
to become an opera singer, that she occasionally
now sang at concerts, meeting with encouraging
success, and further, that she possessed the best of
references. But Miss Kling gave a sniffle of distrust.
"Public characters are not to be trusted. Do
you remember, ,, she asked solemnly, "do you
remember the young man you-once had here, who
ran away with your teaspoons and your toothbrush ?"
Ah, yes ! Mrs. Simonson remembered him

Neighborly
perfectly.

Calls.

65

Was she likely to forget him ? But he,

Mrs. Simonson respectfully submitted, was not a
singer, but a commercial traveler.
Miss Kling shook her head.
" That experience should be a w a r n i n g !

You

cannot deny that no y o u n g woman of a modest and
retiring disposition would seek to place herself in a
public position.

Can you imagine me u p o n

the

stage ?" concluded Miss K l i n g with great dignity.
Mrs. Simonson was free to admit that her imagination could contemplate no such possibility, and
then, neither desirous of criticising a good p a y i n g
lodger, or of offending Miss Kling—that struggle
with the ways and means having taught

her

to

offend no one if it could possibly be avoided—she
changed.the subject by expatiating at length u p o n a
topic she always found safe—the weather.

But Miss

Celeste Fishblate coming in, Miss K l i n g left the
weather to take care of itself, and returned to the
more interesting discussion, to her, of Miss Archer.
Celeste, a y o u n g lady favored with a countenance that impressed the beholder as being principally nose and teeth, and possessing a large share of
the commodity k n o w n as gush, was ready e n o u g h
to be the recipient of her neighbor's collection of
gossip.

But, to Miss K l i n g ' s no small disgust, she

was rather lukewarm in pre-judging the new-comer.
5

66

Neighborly Calls.

In truth, although somewhat alarmed at the "three
trunks," lest she should be out-dressed, she was
already debating within herself whether Miss
Archer, as a medium by which more frequent access
to Mrs. Simonson's gentlemen lodgers could be
obtained, was not a person whose acquaintance it
was desirable to cultivate. Moreover, the words
opera singer raised ecstatic visions of a possible
future introduction to some "ravishing tenor," the
remote idea of which caused her to be so visibly preoccupied, that Miss Kling took her leave with angry
sniffles, and returned home to ponder over what
she had heard.
A few days after, Nattie, who had quite paralyzed Miss Kling by refusing to listen to what she
boldly termed unfounded gossip about her new
friend, went to spend an evening with her.
Miss Archer occupied a suite of rooms, consisting
of a parlor and a very small bed-room that had been
Mrs. Simonson's own, but which on account of the
"ways and means" she had given up now, confining
herself exclusively to the kitchen, fitted up to look
as much like a parlor as a kitchen could.
" And how is ' G ' ?" asked Miss Archer as she
warmly welcomed her visitor.
" Still as agreeable as ever," Nattie replied. " I
told him I was coming to see you this evening, and

Neighborly

Calls.

6?

he sent his regards, and wished he could be of the
party."
" I wish he might. But that would spoil the
mystery," rejoined Miss Archer. " Do you know
what the ' 0 ' is for ?"
" Clem," he says. His other name I don't know.
He would give me some outlandish cognomen if I
should ask. But it isn't of much consequence."
"It might be if you should really fall in love
with him," laughed Miss Archer.
" Fall in love ! over the wire ! That is absurd,
especially as I am not susceptible," Nattie answered,
coloring a trifle, however, as she remembered how
utterly disconsolate she had been all that morning,
because a " cross " on the wire had for several hours
cut off communication between her office and " X n . "
"You think it would be too romantic for real
life ? Doubtless you are right. And the funny incidents-—have you anything new in your note-book ?"
" Only that a man to-day, who had perhaps just
dined, wanted to know the tariff to the U—nited
St—at—ates," answered Nattie, glancing at some
autumn Feaves tastefully arranged on the walls and
curtains. " But ' C ' was telling me about a mistake
that was lately made—not by him, he vehemently
asserts, although I am inclined to think it was ; the
message as originally-sent was, ' John is dead, be at

68

Neighborly

Calls.

home at three,' when it was delivered it read, l John
is dead beat, home at three.' "
" How was that possible ?" asked Miss Archer,
laughing,
" I suppose the sending operator did not leave
space enough between the words ; we leave a small
space between letters, and a longer one between
words," explained Nattie.
" T h e operator who received it must have,been
rather stupid not to have seen the mistake," Miss
Archer said. " I have too good an opinion of your
' C ' to believe it was he. But every profession
has its comic side as well as its tricks, I suppose ;
mine, I am sure, does. But I am learning something
every day, and I am determined," energetically, "to
fight my way up !"
Stirred by Miss Archer's earnestness, there came
to Nattie an uneasy consciousness that she herself
was making no progress towards her only dreamed
of ambition, and a shade crossed her face ; but without observing it, Miss Archer continued,
" I always had a passion for the lyric stage, and
now there is nothing to prevent—" did a slight
shadow here darken also her sunny eyes, gone instantly ?—" I shall make music my life's aim. Fortunately I have money of my own to enable me to
study, and
"

Neighborly Calls.

69

Miss Archer's speech was here interrupted in a
somewhat startling manner, by the door suddenly
flying open, banging against the piano with a prodigious crash, and disclosing Quimby, red and
abashed, outside.
Nattie jumped, Miss Archer gave a little scream,
and the Duchess, Mrs. Simonson's handsome tortoise-shell cat, so named from her extreme dignity,
who lay at full length upon a rug, drew herself up
in haughty displeasure.
" I—I beg pardon, I am sure !" stammered the
more agitated intruder. " Really, I — I am so
ashamed I—I can hardly speak ! I was unfortunate
enough to stumble—I'm used to it, you know,—and
I give you my word of honor I never saw such a—
such an extremely lively door !"
" It is of no consequence," Miss Archer assured
him. " Will you come in ?"
" Thank you, I—I fear I intrude," answered
Quimby, clutching- his watch-chain, and glancing
at Nattie, guiltily conscious of the strong desire to
do so that had taken possession of him since the
sound of her voice had penetrated to his apartment,
and in perfect agony lest she should surmise it.
However, upon Miss Archer's assuring him that
they would be very glad of his company, he ventured to enter. But the door still weighed upon

70

Neighborly

Calls.

his mind, for after carefully closing it, he stood and
stared at it with a very perplexed face.
" Never saw such a lively door, you know !" he
repeated, finally sitting down on the piano-stool,
and folding both arms across one knee, letting a
hand droop dismally on either side, while he looked
alternately at Miss Archer, Nattie, and the part of the
room mentioned, at which the former laughed, and
then, with the kind intention of drawing his mind
from the subject of his forced appearance, suggested
a game of cards.
" Then we shall have to have one more person,
shall we not ?" Nattie asked, at this proposition.
"It would be better," replied Miss Archer. "Let
me see—Mrs. Simonson does not play
"
"Mr. Norton does!" interrupted Quimby, forgetting the door, in his eagerness to be of service.
" I—I would willingly ask him to join us, if you
will allow me!"
" That queer young artist who lodges here, you
mean ?" inquired Miss Archer.
" Oh ! But he is a dreadful Bohemian !" commented Nattie, distrustfully, before Quimby could
reply.
" Is he ?" laughed Miss Archer. " Then ask him
in by all means ! I am something of a Bohemian
myself, and shall be delighted to meet a kindred

Neighborly

Calls.

n

soul ! I do not know as I have ever observed the
gentleman particularly, but if I remember rightly,
he wears his hair very closely cropped, and is not a
model of beauty ?"
" But he is just as nice a fellow as if he was handsome outside !" said Quimby earnestly, doubtless
aware of his own shortcomings in the Adonis line.
" He is a little queer to be sure, doesn't believe in
love or sentiment or anything of that sort, you
know, and he says he wears his hair cropped close
because people have a general idea that artists are
long-haired, lackadaisical fellows,—not to say untidy, you know,—and he is determined that no one
shall be able to say it of him !"
Miss Archer was much amused at this description.
" H e certainly is an odd genius, and decidedly
worth knowing. Bring him in, I beg of you," she
said.
But Quimby hesitated and glanced at Nattie.
" He is not very unconventional, I—I do not
think he will shock you very much if you do not get
him at it, you know !" he said to her apologetically.
" O h ! I am not at all alarmed!" said Nattie,
adding, as her thoughts reverted to Miss Kling, " I
think, after all, a Bohemian is better than a perfect
model of conventionalism !"
Miss Archer heartily indorsed this sentiment,

V

Neighborly

Calls.

and Quimby went in quest of Mr. Norton, with
whom he soon returned.
Unlike enough to the melancholy artist of
romantic fame was Mr. Norton. Short, rather stout,
inclined to be red in the face, large-nosed, scrupulously neat in dress, clean shaven, and closelycropped hair—all this the observing Miss Archer
saw at a glance as she bowed to him in response to
Quimby's introduction.
But the second glance
showed her that the expression of his face was so
jovial that its plainness vanished as if by magic on
his first smile.
If Nattie, possibly a trifle prejudiced in his disfavor, expected him to outrage common propriety in
some way, such as keeping on his hat, smoking a
black pipe, or turning up his pantaloons leg, she
was utterly—shall we say disappointed? Truth to
tell, before ten minutes had elapsed from the time of
his arrival, she was wishing she knew more " Bohemians," and even hoping " C " was one !
At home as soon as he entered the room, in a
very short time the strangers of a moment ago were
his life-long friends. Full of anecdotes and quaint
remarks, he was the life of the little party. Miss
Archer, however, was a very able backer—Cyn, as
they all found themselves calling her soon after
Jo Norton's advent, and forevermore.

Neighborly

Calls.

n

" Cyn was," as its owner said, " short" for the
samewhat lofty name of Cynthia.
Doubtless, the fact of these two, who were partners, beating nearly every game they played, was
not without its effect in promoting their most genial
feelings. A result brought about, not so much by
their skill, as by Quimby's perpetually forgetting
what was trumps, confounding the right and left
bowers, and disregarding the power of the joker.
And in truth Quimby's mind was more on his
partner than on the game, and he was becoming
more and more awake to the fact that his heart was
fast filling with admiration and adoration of which
she was the object, and inevitably must soon overflow ! For Nattie was really looking her very best
this evening. It was excitement and animation that
her face depended upon for its beauty. Miss
Archer's companionship, too, was doing much
towards promoting the cheerfulness that brought
so clear a light to her eyes—the light that was now
dazzling Quimby. For Cyn was one of those
people who live always in the sunshine, and seem
to carry its own brightness around with them, while
Nattie, on the contrary, oftentimes dwelt among the
shadows, and a touch of their somberness hung over
her, and showed itself upon her face.
But none of these lurking shadows were there

74

Neighborly Calls.

to-night, and as a consequence, Quimby was
unable to keep his eyes off her, and sighed, and
made misdeals, and became generally mixed. His
embarrassment was not lessened when Cyn mischievously informed him he had certainly found
favor in the eyes of Miss Fishblate-—who had
called upon her the day before. He dropped the
pack of cards he happened to have in his hand
at the moment, all over the floor, and then dived so
hastily to pick them up that his head came in violent contact with the edge of the table, and for a
moment he was almost stunned.
But in answer to Cyn's anxious inquiry if he was
hurt, he replied,
" It's nothing ! I—I am used to it, you know !"
Notwithstanding which assertion his forehead developed such a sudden and terrific bump of benevolence, that Cyn insisted upon binding her handkerchief over it. Thus, with his head tied up,
and secretly lamenting the unornamental figure he
now presented to the eyes of his partner and
charmer, Quimby resumed the game. But what
with this cause of uneasiness, and a latent fear that
Cyn's jesting remark about Celeste might be true,
a fear he had privately been conscious of previously,
although the least conceited of mortals, Quimby
played so badly—and indeed would undoubtedly

Neighborly

Calls,

75

have answered " c h e c k e r s , " had he been asked suddenly what g a m e he was playing, on account of his
meditations on a checkered existence—that the cards
were soon abandoned, and Cyn delighted them with
several songs, and a recitation of " L a d y Clara V e r e
de Vere."
While

Cyn was

singing, Nattie

happened to

glance at Mr. Norton, and suddenly remembering
a sentence in a lately-read novel about some one
looking with " his soul in his eyes," wondered if
that was not exactly what Mr. N o r t o n was doing
now ? She did not notice, however, that it was
certainly what Q u i m b y was t r y i n g not to do !

She

wondered too, if the y o u n g artist was paying Cyn
some private compliments, for they seemed to be
t a l k i n g together apart, as all were b i d d i n g each
other good-night.

If so, she could not understand

why Cyn should look so mischievous over it.

It

was but a momentary thought, however, forgotten
as they all mutually agreed that the pleasant evening
just passed should be but the b e g i n n i n g of many.
T h e circumstance was recalled to her mind, however,
and explained the next day, for on r e t u r n i n g from
the office she found u n d e r her door a pen and ink
sketch, of which she knew at once Cyn was the
designer, and Mr. N o r t o n the executor.

It repre-

sented two rooms, one on each side of a p a r t i t i o n ;

76

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

in one was a table, containing the ordinary telegraphic apparatus, before which sat a young lady
strangely resembling Miss Nattie Rogers, with her
face beaming with smiles, and her hand grasping the
key. In the other, a young man with a very battered
hat knelt before the sounder on his table, while
behind him an urchin with a message in his hand
stared unnoticed, open-mouthed and unheard ; far
above was Cupid, connecting the wires that ran
from the gentleman to the lady.
" What nonsense !" murmured Nattie, laughing
to herself ; but she put the picture away in her
writing desk as carefully as she might some cherished memento.
»•»

'• •

C H A P T E R V.
QUIMBY BURSTS FORTH IN ELOQUENCE.

HAT young lady over there acts very
strangely. She is not crazy, is she ?" inquired a gentleman who stood leaning
against the counter over the way, and looking
across at Nattie.
" I don't know what to make of her," the pre-

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence,

77

viously mentioned clerk, to whom this question was
addressed, answered, " I have been observing her
for some weeks; she sits half the time as you see her
now, laughing to herself and gesticulating. Sometimes she will lean back in her chair and absolutely
shake with laughter, and she smiles at vacancy continually. She seems all right enough with the exception of these vagaries. But she is a perfect
conundrum to me."
" A bit luny, I think," said the gentleman, who
had asked the question.
Just then, Nattie, who, of course, was talking to
" C," and telling him about that sketch—with the
slight reservation of the Cupid,—happened to look
up, with her gaze seventy miles away ; but becoming aware of the curious stares of the two gentlemen opposite, her vision shortened itself to near
objects, and rightly surmising from their looks the
tenor of their thoughts, she colored, and straightway turned her back, at the same time informing
" C " of what she termed their impertinence. But
" C " answered, with a laugh,
" It cannot but look strange, you know, to outsiders, to see a person making such an ado apparently over nothing. Put yourself, if you can, in
the place of the uninitiated ; you come along, see an
operator quietly seated, reading the newspaper, with

78

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

his feet elevated on a chair or table, the picture of
repose. Suddenly up he jumps, down goes the
paper, he seizes a pencil, hurriedly writes a few
words, frowns violently, pounds frantically on the
table, stares savagely at nothing, bursts suddenly
into a broad smile, and then quietly resumes his
first position. Wouldn't these seem like rather
eccentric gambols to you, if you didn't know their
solution ?"
" Ha ! Doubtless,'' answered Nattie. " So I
suppose I must forgive my observers, and be more
careful what I do in future. I have no doubt I
often make myself ridiculous to chance beholders,
when I am talking with you."
" I wonder if that is complimentary to me?"
queried " C."
" Certainly, as it is because you make me laugh
so much," Nattie replied.
" Then I am not such a disagreeable fellow as I
might be ?" demanded 'f C," evidently attempting to
extort flattery.
But before Nattie could answer, some one else
opened their key, and said,
" Oh, yes you are !"
" That was not me," Nattie explained, as quickly
as .possible. "Some of those unpleasant people
that can't mind their own business. I was about to

Quiniby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

79

say I should not know how to get through the days
now, if I hadn't you to talk with."
" D o you really mean it?" questioned " C , "
delightedly, it is reasonable to suppose. " Truly,
I was thinking only last night how unbearable
would have been the solitude of my office^ had I not
been blessed with your company. I was lonesome
enough before I knew you, but I never am now."
It was a pity that no telegraphic instrument had
yet been invented that could carry the blush on Nattie's cheeks for his eyes to see, because it was so very
becoming. She commenced a reply, expressing her
pleasure, but was unable to finish it, on account of
that unknown and disagreeable operator somewhere
on the line, who kept breaking the circuit after every
letter she made. Nor was " C " allowed to write
anything either. This was a trick by which they
had often been annoyed of late.
For, on the wire in the telegraphic world, as well
as elsewhere, are idle, mischief-making people, who
cannot endure to see others enjoying themselves, if
they also have no share.
Thus, unable to talk farther at present with her
indefatigable conversationalist, Nattie took up a
pencil and began entering the day's business in her
books, when a shadow darkened the doorway, and
she looked up to see Quimby.

80

Qtiimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

Since the evening of the card party, when he had
become so fully conscious of the condition of things
inside his heart, Quimby had been in a really pitiable state of unrest. Too bashful, or too deficient in
self-confidence to seek the society of her who was
the cause of all his uneasiness, as his inclinations
directed, and not knowing how to make himself as
charming to her as she was to him, he wandered
past the building containing her, two or three times
a day, sometimes receiving the pleasure of a bow as
he passed her window, but never before to-day
being able to raise the necessary courage to go in
and speak.
Nattie, who could not but begin to surmise
something of the state of his feelings, but without
dreaming of their intensity, now smiled on him,
and asked him inside the office. No man or woman
can be quite indifferent to one, whom they know
has set them on a pedestal, apart from the rest of
the world.
" I—really I—I beg pardon, I'm sure," the
agitated Quimby, trembling at his own daring,
fsesponded to her invitation. " I—I was passing
—quite accidentally, you know,—thought I would
just step in, you know. Really, I—I must ask
pardon for the liberty."
" We are too old acquaintances now for you to

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

81

consider it a liberty," Nattie replied, and the words
made his perturbed heart jump with joy. " Business
being quite dull to-day, I shall be glad to be entertained. Of course," archly, " you came to entertain
me?"
Poor Quimby was decidedly taken aback by this
question.
« I—I—yes certainly—no—that is—I mean I am
afraid I am not much of an entertainer," he stammered, his hands flying to his necktie and nervously
untying it as he spoke. Certainly, the wear and tear
on his neckties and watch chain while he was in his
present condition of love must have been terrific.
" Aren't you ?" queried Nattie without gainsaying
his assertion.
" No—really you know I—I'm always making
mistakes—but I'm used to it, you know—and I am
not—possibly I might be a trifle better than nobody—but that's all."
And having given this honest, and certainly not
conceited opinion of himself, he entered the office,
sat down, and proceeded to make compasses of his
legs.
" Have you seen Cyn to-day ? she paid me a
flying visit yesterday, and talked a little to i C/ but I
haven't seen her since."
" She went away to sing out of town, let me see—I
6

82

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence,

forget where, and she will not return until to-morrow ;" then, uneasily, " I—I beg pardon, but you—you
mentioned the Invisible. Do you—I beg pardon—
but do you converse as much as ever with him ?"
" Yes indeed !" Nattie replied with an ardor that
did not produce exactly an enlivening effect upon
her caller ; " we talk together nearly all the time."
" What—I beg pardon—but really—what do you
find to talk about so rnuch ?" he inquired jealously.
" Oh, everything ! of the books we read, and the
good things in the magazines and papers, and the
adventures we have—telegraphically ; in short, of all
the topics of the day. We agree very well too,
except on candy, that I like and he doesn't," replied Nattie.
Quimby suppressed a groan, and hastened to
assure her that he himself possessed a great passion
for sweetmeets.
" But don't you—I beg pardon—but don't you
find this sort of thing—'C,' I mean—ghostly, you
know ?"
" Ghostly !" echoed the astonished Nattie.
" Yes," he replied, with a gesture of his arm that
produced an impression as if that member had
leaped out of its socket. "Yes, talking with the
unseen, you know ; I—I beg pardon, but it strikes
me as ghostly."

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

83

Nattie stared.
" What a strange fancy !" she exclaimed. " ' C '
is very real, and of the earth, earthy to me, I assure
you !"
Quimby's face lengthened some three inches.
" Is he ?" he said ruefully. " I—I beg pardon, but
you haven't—you don't mean to say that—you have
not taken a—bless my soul ! how warm it is here !"
and he mopped his face with a red silk handkerchief—a color very unbecoming to his complexion.
" Warm !" repeated Nattie, her lips curving in an
amused smile, for she had a shawl over her
shoulders, and was nevertheless slightly chilly. " I
don't perceive it, I am sure."
"I—I beg pardon—but I've been walking, you
know," Quimby said nervously. " But I—I was
about to ask—I—I beg pardon—but you have not—
n o t " desperately, "really fallenin love with him,
have you ?"
Nattie's eyes danced with amusement, but her
color deepened slightly too, as she replied,
" H o w could one fall in love with an invisible?
why, that would be even less satisfactory than an
ideal!"
Quimby's face brightened, and he recovered
himself sufficiently to put away the red silk handkerchief.

84

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

" I don't think—really, I should not think there
could be much satisfaction in it !" then stealing a
bashful but adoring glance at her, he added,
"I—I prefer a—a visible, as being something
more substantial, you know!"
"Indeed?" said Nattie, demurely; then thinking
perhaps he was drifting on to grounds that had best
be avoided, she changed the subject, by saying,
" Do you not think Cyn a very charming young
lady ?"
" Oh, yes ! I—I—yes, very charming !" Quimby
answered, but not so enthusiastically as perhaps
Mr. Norton might have done. For Quimby's heart
was of the old-fashioned kind, and his fancy was
not fickle; besides, being now, in a measure,
launched upon the subject, of love, so awful to
approach, he was unwilling thus soon to leave a
theme so sweet, yet so formidable. Therefore,
crossing his legs, and bracing up against the chairback, he determined, now or never, to give her an
inkling of his feelings, an intention so very palpable, that Nattie was glad indeed to hear from the
sounder,
" B m—B m—B m—."
" Excuse me," she said, hastily. " They are
calling me on the wire," and immediately answered,
and began taking a message.

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

85

Meanwhile, to him had come a reaction, and he
was in a state of total collapse. Before she had
finished receiving that message of only ten words,
he had drawn himself dejectedly to his feet, and
was looking for his hat.
" I—T really—I must go, you know !" he faltered, blushing, as Nattie glanced up at him. " I—
I fear I have intruded now—but I—I—" he stopped
short, unable to find an ending to his sentence.
" I'm always glad of company," Nattie said, but
a little distantly, as she gave " O. K." on the wire.
« I—I—really, you are very kind, you know,"
stammered Quimby. " I—-I pass here on the way
to dinner, you see—from the office, you know,"—he
eked out his meagre income by writing in a lawyer's office—" where, 'pon my word, I ought to have
been now. But it's—it's such a pleasure to see
you—you know that—where can my hat be ?"
All this time he had been looking around for
his hat, and now Nattie fished it out of the waste
basket, into which he had unwittingly dropped it.
Taking it with many apologies, he bowed himself
confusedly and ungracefully out, and went away,
wondering if he would ever be able to get himself
up to such a pitch again, and resolving, if it proved
possible, that it should not occur next time where
there was one of those aggravating " sounders,"

86

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

" Now, I hope," thought Nattie, as she watched
his retreating form, "that he is not going to make
an idiot of himself ! Not only because he is as
good a fellow as he is a blundering one, and I
wouldn't for the world hurt his feelings, but also
because it would be dreadfully uncomfortable to
have a rejected lover wandering around in the same
house with one !"
And Nattie, judging from his late conduct that
the contingency referred to was likely to occur,
resolved to be careful and not give him any opportunity to express his feelings, and furthermore,
to kindly and cautiously teach him the meaning of
the word Friendship, and particularly to define
the broad distinction between that and Love.
But circumstances are mulish things, and not to
be governed at will, as Nattie was soon to discover.
A few evenings after she called in to see
Cyn, who happened to be out But she was momentarily expected to return, as Mrs. Simonson
said, so Nattie concluded to wait, and sat down at
the piano. Not noticing she had left the door
partly open, and never dreaming of approaching
danger, she began to play, when suddenly, the hesitating voice of Quimby broke in upon the strains of
the " First Kiss " waltz.
" I—may I come in ?" he asked. " I—I beg

Quimby Blasts Forth in Eloquence.

Sy

your pardon, but I knocked several times, you
know, and you didn't hear at all."
Nattie would gladly have refused the invitation he asked, but could think of no possible
excuse for so doing, and was therefore compelled
to say,
" Yes—come in, I expect Cyn every moment."
Availing himself of this permission, Quimby
entered, balanced his hat on the edge of an album,
and seating himself in a chair, seized a round on
either side as if he was in danger of blowing away,
and stared at her without a word.
" I t has been a lovely day, hasn't it?" Nattie
said at last, beginning to find the silence embarrassing, and reverting to Mrs. Simonson's safe
topic.
" Yes—exactly so !" Quimby answered, strengthening his grasp on the chair in a vain endeavor to
summon the requisite courage to avail himself of
this rare opportunity of pouring out his feelings.
Nattie tried him again on another safe topic.
" Cyn and I dined together to-day."
" I—I can't eat!" burst forth Quimby in accents
of despair.
" Can't you ?" said Nattie, devoutly wishing Cyn
would come. " I am very sorry, I hope you are not
dyspeptic."

88

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence.

" No, no !" he answered,-his eyes almost starting
from his head between his determination to wind
himself up to the point, and the tightness of his
grasp on the chair. " It's—it's my heart, you
know !"
"You don't mean to say you have heart disease?" said Nattie, seeing danger fast approaching,
and taking refuge in obtusity.
" No, I—I beg pardon—not a—not a bodily
heart disease, you know, but a mental one !" and he
relaxed his grasp on the chair with one hand to tug
at his necktie as if being hung, and disliking the
sensation.
" That is something I never heard of," Nattie
said dryly ; then thinking, " I'll drown him in
music," she asked hastily,
" Do you like the First Kiss ?"
The bounce of an India rubber ball is no comparison to the agility with which Quimby jumped
from his chair at this question.
" Oh ! Bless my soul ! Wouldn't I ?" he gasped.
" I will play it to you," exclaimed Nattie,
instantly aware of the indiscretion of her question,
and she thundered as loud as she could on the
piano, while Quimby, with a very red face, subsided
into the chair again. But not long did he remain
subsided ; whether it was the music that inspired

Quimby Bursts Forth in Eloquence,

89

him, or a desperate determination that nerved him,
he suddenly sprang up, and with one stride was
beside her, exclaiming excitedly,
" No ! That is—I beg pardon—but please do
not play any more just now. There is something
I must say to you ! Oh ! I can't express myself!
It all comes upon me with a rush when I am alone,
but now, at this supreme moment, I cannot tell you
how I a
"
" Excuse me, but I am afraid I cannot remain
now," hastily interrupted Nattie, feeling that something must be done to stop him, and adopting the
first expedient that suggested itself. " I just happened to recollect I left my gas burning in close
proximity to the lace curtains, and I must go
immediately and attend to it."
With these words, Nattie rushed away, half
amused and half annoyed, leaving him to stare
after her with a blank and rueful face, to ask himself how any fellow could get on amid such drawbacks, to decide that proposing was a dreadful
strain on the nerves, but to resolve his next attempt
should be a success, if he had to inaugurate previously a series of private rehearsals. For although
abashed and discomfited by his repeated failures
to make his feelings understood, he was more in
love than ever.

go

Collapse of the Romance.

CHAPTER

VI.

COLLAPSE OF THE ROMANCE.

M—B m—B m—N—N—N—Oh ! where are
you, N ? Where is the little girl at B m—
B m—B m ?"
Such were the sounds that greeted Nattie's ears,
as she entered the office the morning after her
adventure with the love-lorn Quimby ; and immediately she ceased to speculate on the probable
embarrassment that must necessarily attend their
not-to-be-avoided next meeting, and interrupted
" C's " solitary conversation, by saying,
" What is the matter with you this morning ?
Here I am, N."
" G. M., my dear. I'm off, and wanted to say
good-by before I went," responded " C . "
" Off ?" questioned Nattie, with a sudden fall in
her mental temperature.
" Yes, I am going to a station five miles below
to substitute, to-day. The operator there is obliged
to go away, and couldn't find any one competent
to do his work, and as there was a fellow that could
do mine, he comes here and I go there."

Collapse of the Romance,

91

" Oh, dear ! what shall I do all day ?" said Nattie, sinking into a chair, very much aggrieved.
" I am very sorry, but I couldn't well avoid
accommodating him. But what will you. do when I
leave entirely, if you can't get along without me
one day ? happy I, to be so necessary to your existence !"
" But there is no prospect of your leaving at
present, is there ?" asked Nattie, forgetting in her
alarm at such a possibility to challenge the last of
his remark.
" There is some probability of it now," " C "
responded. " I will tell you all about it to-morrow.
I may come nearer to you ; near enough even for
you to see that twinkle."
" You don't mean you have a prospect of an
office here in the city ?" questioned Nattie, not
knowing whether she would be glad or sorry if
such were the case.
" Not exactly," replied " C." I haven't time to
explain ; train is coming, so——"
" Where did you say you were going to-day ?"
broke in Nattie quickly.
" B a—five miles down the line nearer you, but
not on this wire. Used to be, you know, but
switched on wire number twenty-seven last week,"
" C " responded so hurriedly, that Nattie could

92

Collapse of the Romance.

hardly read it, although so accustomed to his style
of making his dots and dashes ; for, with the key, as
with the pen, all operators have their own peculiar
manner of writing.
" Ah, yes ! I remember," responded Nattie
quickly. " That hateful operator signing ' M '
had it, that used to be fighting for the circuit
always, and breaking in when we were talking.
I wouldn't have gone for him."
" Couldn't well avoid it. Here is train. Goodby ; shall miss you terribly, but will be with you
again to-morrow. Good-by."
" Good-by. I am lonesome already," Nattie
answered.
As " C " made no reply, it was supposable he had
gone, and probably had to run for the train, thought
Nattie, as she took off her hat rather dejectedly.
A broken companionship of any kind must ever
leave a certain sense of loneliness, and this was
none the less true now on account of the unique
circumstances. Indeed, until to-day she had not
fully realized how necessary " C " had become to her
telegraphic life. Naturally, she had woven a sort of
romance about him who was a friend " so near and
yet so far." Perhaps too, a certain yearning for
tenderness in her lonely heart, a feeling that every
woman knows, found something, very pleasant

Collapse of the Romance.

93

in being always greeted with " Good morning, my
dear," and hearing the last thing at nighj;, " Good
night, little girl at B m."
Miss Kling undoubtedly would have been
shocked at being thus addressed even on the
wire, by a strange person—a person certainly,
although unseen ; but Nattie, used to the license
that distance gave, whether wisely or unwisely,
had never thought it necessary to check the familiarity.
Pondering over what he had hinted about
leaving permanently, in the leisure usually devoted
to chatting with him, but which that day she
hardly knew how to fill, Nattie wondered if,
should they ever come face to face, they would
feel like the old friends they were, or if the
nearness would bring a constraint now unknown ?
Yet she was fain to confess she would like to see
him and ascertain the personal appearance of one
who occupied so much of her thoughts. But how
strange it would be, if, after all their friendly talks
and gay confidences, he should pass out of the way
that was both their ways now, and they never
know anything more about each other than that
one was " C " and one was " N !" something not
impossible either, or even improbable ; for fate is a
sort of switch-board, and a slight move will switch

94

Collapse of the Romance.

two lives onto wires far asunder, even as the moving of a peg or two will alter everything on the
board that shows its power so little.
With such thoughts in her mind, Nattie was
rather among the shadows that day, and presented
no laughing face to the curious passers-by, much to
that opposite clerk's relief, who came to the conclusion that she had once more recovered her senses.
About an hour before the time for closing the
office, as she was counting over her cash, and
thinking how glad she was that " G" would be
back to-morrow, she became conscious of some one
waiting her attention outside, and went forward,
scarcely looking at him, expecting, of course, a
message. But instead, the individual, who filled
the air with a suffocating odor of musk, asked,
" You are the regular operator here, I suppose ?"
With a start Nattie looked up, expecting a complaint, an occurrence, often prefaced by some like
question, and scrutinizing him more particularly,
saw a short, rather stout young man, possessing
an air of cheap assurance, hair that insisted
on being red, notwithstanding the bear's grease
that covered it, teeth all at variance with each
other, and seeming to rejoice obtrusively in the
fact, and light blue eyes of a most insinuating
expression, trimmed around with red.

Collapse of the Romance.

95

" Yes," Nattie replied as she took this survey.
" I am."
" You don't know me, I suppose ?" was the next
question.
" N o , " Nattie replied with a glance at the large
mock diamond pin, and immense imitation amethyst ring he wore ; " I certainly do not."
" I think you are mistaken about that," he rejoined, smiling at her in a most unpleasantly
familiar manner.
Surprised and offended, Nattie drew back haughtily. " I think, rather, you are mistaken," she said,
stiffly. " May I inquire your business ?"
With an air of easy confidence and familiar
remonstrance, he replied,
" Come, now, don't freeze a fellow ; why, I came
to see you. That's my business and no other!"
" He is drunk," thought Nattie, indignantly, but
before she could reply he added,
" I am an operator, you see."
" Oh !" said Nattie, comprehensively, but not at
all delightedly, for operator or no operator, and notwithstanding the sort of freemasonry between those
of the craft, she preferred his room to his company.
But constraining herself, she added as civilly as
possible," Did you wish to send a message, or speak
to any one on the wire ?"

g6

Collapse of the Romance.

"No, thank you," he answered; then, with an
insinuating smile,
" Can't you guess who I am ?"
" I really can't," Nattie replied, coldly and indifferently ; thinking, " some of the operators down
town, I suppose, and a delightful set they are if he
is a specimen! So impertinent of him!"
" Can't you ?" laughing and displaying his obtrusive teeth to their utmost advantage. "Now just
think of some one you have been buzzing lately,
and then guess, won't you, N ?"
Without the least suspicion Nattie shook her
head impatiently, feeling very much disgusted, and
longing for some interruption to occur. But his
next words were startling. Leaning forward very
confidentially, he asked with a smile of consciousness,
" Do you see that twinkle, N ?"
" What!" ejaculated Nattie—so forcibly that a
passing countryman stopped with a peanut half
cracked, to stare—and clutching at an umbrella
hanging by her side, for support, she turned a
horror-stricken face to the questioner, who, looking
as if he expected her to be enraptured, added,
"You know a fellow that signs 'C,' don't you?"
The bump of self-conceit must have largely overbalanced the perceptive faculties of this obnoxious

Collapse of the Romance.

97

young man, if he could possibly mistake the expression on Nattie's face for rapture, as, frantically
grasping the umbrella, she gasped,
" No—no—it can't be—you are not—-not—"
"Not C? Ain't I, though!" laughed the proprietor of the ring, pin, bear's-grease, et cetera.
"But," said poor Nattie, clinging desperately to
hope and the umbrella, " C said this morning he
was going to B a—and
"
" That was a trick to take you by surprise/' he
interrupted, with great enjoyment of his own words.
" I knew I was coming here, all the time, but I
wanted to give you a nice little surprise. Think I
have, eh ?" and he laughed again, and winked with
almost vulgar assurance.
Nattie let go of hope and the umbrella, and
collapsed with her romance into a chair; and she
thought of Quimby's warning about the " soiled
invisible," and barely suppressed a groan. Involuntarily she stole a glance at this too-visible person,
and shuddered. Could she reconcile " C," her visionary, interesting, witty and gentlemanly " C " of the
wire, with this musk-scented being of greasy red hair,
cheap jewelry and vulgar manners ? Impossible !
"It is the nightmare! it cannot be!" she thought,
with the despairing refuge in dreams we often take
when suddenly overwhelmed with terrible realities.
7

98

Collapse of the Romance,

As she made no reply to his last observation,
her visitor, glancing at her as if slightly puzzled by
her behavior, went on—
" I did not think you would be so bashful,
after all our talks. I am not,"—-a fact hardly necessary to mention. " We ought to be pretty good
friends by this time. Say, do I look as you expected
I would?" and as if to give her a better view, he
pushed his hat back on his head, a kindness wholly
unappreciated, as Nattie had seen more than sufficient of him already.
"Not—not exactly!" she stammered, in a sort of
dazed way.
" I believe you thought I was one of those slim
fellows whose bones rattle when they walk, didn't
you ? I am no such a fellow, you see. But you
ain't a bit as I imagined. May I be a plug * forever
if you are!"
Nattie was too wretched, too unable even yet
to realize that her " C " and this odious creature
were one and the same, to ask, as he evidently
expected natural curiosity would induce her to do,
in what way she so differed from the person of his
imagination.
"You go beyond all my calculations," he con* " P l u g " is the common telegraphic expression for an incompetent operator.

Collapse of the Romance.

99

tinued, flatteringly, after waiting in vain for a question from her ; " Only you are more bashful than I
supposed you would be, after the dots and dashes
we have slung. But then it's easier to buzz on the
wire than it is to talk, isn't it ? For all a fellow has
to do is to take up a book or a paper, pick things
out to say, and go it without exercising his own
brains !"
At these words, that explained the previous
incomprehensible difference between the distant
" C " and present person, the realization of the
companionship, the romance, the friendship gone to
wreck on this reef of musk and bear's-grease came
over Nattie with a rush, and for a moment so
affected her that she could hardly restrain her tears.
And yet, after all, was not " C," her " C," trie
" C " whom she knew by his conversation only—
" picked out of books !"—an unreal, intangible
being, and not this so different person who claimed
his identity ?
" I think we astonished some of them on the
wire with all the stuff we had over !" went on with
his monologue the knight of the collapsed
romance, who, not being troubled with fine sensibilities, had no idea of the feelings under which
she was laboring.
" Yes—I—doubtless !" stammered Nattie, and

ioo

Collapse of the Romance,

turned very red, as, suddenly remembering the
tenor of some of what he so elegantly termed
" stuff," the appalling thought, what if he should
say " my dear ?" presented itself in all its horrors,
and the idea punished her for that girlish imprudence in allowing the familiarity from afar.
Evidently he noticed the access of color, and
attributed it to his own fascinations, for he smiled
complacently as he said,
" I wish I had longer to stay with you, but my
train goes in five minutes." Nattie breathed a sigh
of relief. " Too bad, isn't it ? But I will come
again some time ! By the way," a cunning expression that seemed uncalled-for crossing over his face,
" don't say anything on the wire about my being
here to-day, will you ? I don't want any one to
know. Let them think I was at B a."
" Certainly not !" replied Nattie, with an
alacrity born of the knowledge that she should
hold no further communication of any kind with
him ; then, in order to give a hint of her intentions,
she added) bracing herself up to mention what was
so difficult to speak of to this vampire who mocked
her with her vanished " C . "
" Now that the—the mystery is solved, and I—
and we have met, I don't think there will be much
amusement in talking over the wire."

Collapse of the Romance.

101

Somewhat to her surprise, and not at all flattering to her vanity, he answered, without a remonstrance,
" N o ! I don't know as there will!"
"Perhaps he doesn't like my looks any better
than I do his !" was Nattie's natural and indignant
thought at this quiet reception of her hint. And
if anything had been necessary—which it certainly
was not—to her utter repudiation of him, this
would have sufficed for the purpose.
" You mentioned this morning you thought of
leaving X n. Do you expect to go soon ?" she
asked, catching at the idea that a few hours ago
had caused so much alarm, with a hope that he
might be about to vanish from her world finally
and forever. But even as she spoke, the difference
of the now and then smote her like a pain.
"Did I say that ?" he said, with a look that she
could not understand, as if for some secret reason,
he was so well pleased with himself, he could
hardly avoid laughing outright. " Oh ! well ! I
was only fooling!"
Nattie's face fell, but, catching at the opportunity to convey the impression that in her
opinion they had not been very friendly, after all,
she said,

102
11

Collapse of the Romance.

1 suppose no one really means what they say
on the wire. I am sure I do not !"
" But we mean what we say now," he replied,
with an insinuating smile. *' Next time I come we
will be more sociable. But we have had a nice
talk, ain't we?"
For a moment the repulsive person before her
overcame the remembrance of the lost " C," and
Nattie replied, sarcastically,
" I trust the talk has not been too much of an
exercise for your brain !"
He looked at her doubtfully, and then laughed.
" You are sort of a queer girl, ain't you? I wish
though, I could stay and buzz you longer, but I
have only time to get my train, so good-by."
" Good-by," said Nattie, betraying all her relief
at his departure in the sudden animation of her
voice, something so different from her preceding
manner that he could but notice it, and he turned,
looked at her, as if a suspicion of its true cause
penetrated his mind at last, frowned, and then with
that former look she did not understand crossing
his face, nodded and ran for the depot, coming into
violent collision with a fat Dutchman, looking perplexedly for a barber's shop. And thus the red
hair, the bear's grease, the sham jewelry, and the
obtrusive, fighting teeth disappeared forever from

" Good-Byr

103

Nattie's sight, leaving her with a bewildered look
on her face, as if, indeed, just awakened from that
imagined nightmare.
She looked around the office blankly. Everything was there just as usual, the little key and the
sounder, over which had come all " C ' s " pleasant
talk. " C!" That creature ! The odor of his
detestable musk hovered about her even now, but
not yet could she realize that her " C " was no
more.
••»

CHAPTER

—

VII.

" GOOD-BY."

T was a very long face that Nattie carried to
the Hotel Norman that night ; so long that
Miss Kling at once saw that something was
amiss, and while curiously wondering- as to the
cause, took a grim satisfaction in the fact. For
Miss Kling liked not to see cheerful faces ; why
should others be happy when she had not found
her other self ?
Nattie's first act on gaining her own room was
to drag forth that carefully-preserved pen and ink
sketch, and tear it to atoms, annihilating the
chubby Cupid with especial care.

f

104

" Good-Byr

" And now/' she thought to herself savagely, as
she burned up the pieces, " I never will be interested in people again, unless I know all about
them. Imagination is too dangerous a guide for
me!"
Having thus exterminated the illustrated edition
of her romance, Nattie felt the necessity of unburdening her mind, her sorrow not being too deep
for words, and with that object sought Cyn ; a
proceeding much disapproved of by Miss Kling,
who, knowing well that weakness of human nature
that seeks a friendly bosom wherein to repose its
sorrows, rightly surmised her lodger's destination
and design, and decidedly objected to any one
knowing more than she herself did.
Nattie found her friend at home, but to her
vexation, not alone. With her was Quimby, who
had called in the untold hope of gleaning tidings of
the young lady who had—as he said to himself—
floored him. His confusion at the sight of her,
remembering as he did the somewhat unusual circumstances of their last meeting, was indescribable •
indeed, his knees actually knocked together. Nattie,
however, whose latest experience had effaced the
effect, and almost the remembrance of that former
one, bade him good-evening, without the least trace
of consciousness or embarrassment, a composure of

" Good-By."

105

manner that astounded but at the same time filled
him with admiration.
As he did not take his departure, being, in fact,
unable to tear himself away, Nattie, in her anxiety
to tell Cyn all that was in her mind, and reflecting
that he really was of no consequence—an argument
not flattering to its object, but one that he probably
would have been first to indorse had he known it—•
and, moreover, that he already knew the prologue,
disregarded his presence and said,
"The most incomprehensible thing has happened, Cyn ! I cannot realize it even now !"
Quimby quaked in his boots, and grew hot all
over with the fear that she was going to relate their
last evening's adventure. Could it be possible ?
" I knew that something was the matter the moment you entered the room," said Cyn. " I cannot
imagine why you should look as if you were going
into the grave-digging business !"
"Ah, Cyn!" exclaimed Nattie, as if the words
hurt her, "He—' C,' called on me to-day !"
Quimby gave a bounce, and then grew limp in
all his joints.
" I s it possible? Personally?" questioned Cyn,
with great interest and animation ; then glancing at
Nattie's face, her tone changed as she added, " He
was not what you thought! I understand, poor N a t ! "

io6

" Good-Byr

Quimby straightened himself up. He fancied he
saw a gleam of hope ahead.
" Far enough from what I thought !" replied
Nattie, with a mixture of pathos and disgust.
" Why did he not remain invisible ?" then, in a
burst of disappointment—" Cyn, he is simply
awful! All red hair and grease, musk, cheap
jewelry, and insolent assurance !"
Quimby glanced in the opposite glass, and
his face brightened all over. He felt like a new
man !
" Oh, dear! Is it as bad as that ?" said Cyn,
looking dismayed. " He was so entertaining on
the wire, I can hardly believe it. Are you quite
sure it was ' C ' ?"
" I could not realize it myself, but it is a fact
nevertheless," Nattie answered sorrowfully, and
then related what she termed the " disgusting
details." Cyn listened, vexed and sorry, for she too
had become interested in the invisible " C," but
Quimby found it impossible to restrain his joy
at this complete overthrow of one whom he had
ever considered a formidable rival.
" It is no use to talk about romance in real life !"
said the annoyed Cyn, yielding to the conviction that the obnoxious visitor really was " C , "
as Nattie concluded. " I t is nice to read about,

" Good-By."

107

and to enact on the stage, but it's altogether too
unreliable for our solid, every-day world. Well,
dear !" consolingly, " it's better to know the truth
than to have gone on blindly talking to so undesirable an acquaintance !"
" Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise,"
quoted Nattie, with a shrug of her shoulders.
" But—yes—I suppose I—ought to be glad I know
the worst."
"I—I beg pardon, but I—I think I hinted it
might be as it has proved, you know!" said
Quimby, trying not to look triumphant, and failing
signally.
Not particularly pleased at having his superior
discernment thus pointed out, Nattie replied rather
shortly,
" It was luck and chance anyway, and it was my
luck to stumble on the most disagreeable specimen
in the business. That is all."
" Do you suppose he is aware of the impression
he produced on you ?" asked Cyn.
" No, indeed !" Nattie replied scornfully. " Is
there anything ,so blind as vulgar, ignorant, selfconceit ? I have no doubt he thinks I was
charmed !"
" Then how will you^ manage when he wants to
talk on the wire again ?" asked Cyn,

io8

" Good-By."

" I shall have to make excuses until he takes the
hint. Oh, dear !" said Nattie with a sigh, " I
believe it is impossible to get any comfort out
of this world !"
" Oh, no, it isn't !" said Cyn in her bright cheery
manner. " The way to do is not to allow ourselves
to fret over what we cannot help. I am almost
as disappointed as you, dear, over this total collapse
of what opened so interestingly ; but the curtain
has fallen on the ignominious last act of our little
drama, so farewell—a long farewell to our wired
romance !"
As Cyn spoke, the somewhat unmusical voice of
Jo Norton was heard in the hall, singing an air from
a popular burlesque, followed by the appearance
among them of Jo himself. Of course the whole
story had to be related for his benefit, and very little
sympathy did Nattie receive from him.
" Let this teach you a lesson, young lady !" he
said, with mock solemnity, " namely, Attend to your
business and let romance alone ! "
" As you do !" said Cyn.
" A s I do," he echoed, "and consequently be
happy as I am ! I tell you, romance and sentiment
and love, and all that bosh, are at the bottom of twothirds of all the misery in the world !"
Notwithstanding which sage remark, and the fact

« Good-Byr

109

of the curtain having fallen on the end, as Cyn said,
for a moment yesterday was as if it had never been,
when Nattie entered her office the next morning and
was greeted with the familiar,
" B m—B m—B m—where is my little girl at
B m, to say good-morning to me ?" and she made
an involuntary movement towards the key to respond in the usual way.
The remembrance of the actual state of things
checked her just in time, and then, with a rather uncertain and tremulous touch of the key she answered,
" Good morning ! wait—am busy ! "
" One untruth ! " she thought to herself, as " C "
became mute, " not the only one I shall have to tell, I
fear, before I succeed in conveying my exact meaning to the understanding of—the person. I will
pick a quarrel, if possible, and he persists in talking !
Oh, dear ! I could have endured the red hair, even
those dreadful teeth, had it not been for the bear'sgrease and general vulgarity of the creature. Well,
it's all over now !" and she sighed, from which it
may be inferred that Jo's admonitions had not been
of much consolation to her.'
We do not take the lessons our experience teaches
us, to heart immediately; first, their bitterness
must be overcome.
To Nattie's great relief, the wire happened to be

no

" Good-By."

very busy that morning, but whenever it was possible " C " called her, and called in vain.
Immediately after her return from dinner, however, having just received and signed for a message,
" C," the moment she closed her key, said,
" Where have you been to-day ? are you not glad
to have me back again ? it cannot be I am so soon
forgotten ?"
Unable to avoid answering, Nattie responded on
the wrong side of truth again. " Have been busy ;
wait, please, a customer here."
" I cannot help saying, confound the luck !" " C "
responded, savagely. To which anathema Nattie
turned up her nose scornfully, and made no reply.
The nervous dread of his " calling," that was
upon her all day, caused her to make more blunders
than she had ever done in all her telegraphic career.
She gave wrong change continually, numbered her
messages incorrectly, and " b r o k e " so much that the
operator who sent to her had a headache with illhumor. Usually very quick at deciphering the
illegible scrawls often handed her for transmission,
she to-day was frowned at for her stupidity in
making them out; and one lady to whom a message
was sent through poor Nattie's office, was much
exercised on receiving it, to learn over an unknown
gentleman's signature, that he would be with her at

" Good-Byr

in

midnight. He really was her husband, but Nattie
had transmitted the name the writing looked most
like, which was one very remote from the real one.
All these mistakes she laid at " C V door, and
grew more disgusted with him, accordingly,
especially when she counted her cash, and found
herself a dollar short. She managed, however, by
frequent excuses, to get along without holding any
conversation with him until the latter part of the
afternoon, when, the wire not being in use, and
business slacking up, he called persistently, savagely, and entreatingly—all of which phases can be
expressed in dots and dashes—interspersing the
call with such expressions as,
" Please answer, N ! Where are you, N ? Why
will you treat thus a poor fellow who thinks so
much of you ?"
" I should think he might take a hint! Must I
tell him in plain words that a personal inspection
leads me to decline the honor of farther acquaintance ? when, too, he particularly requested me not
to mention his visit, over the wire?" thought Nattie ;
and then, as he continued to call, she arose impatiently, and answered shortly,
" B m !"
" You naughty little girl !" immediately responded u C," " where have you been all day ? Is it

112

" Good-By."

thus you treat me on my return, when I expected
you would be glad to see me again ?"
" I have been busy," Nattie replied briefly, with a
repetition of her platitude, and cringing at the same
time over the first of his remark, as she recalled his
tout ensemble.
" So you have said every time I have called,"
" C " answered, apparently entirely unconscious of
the possible reason. " What is the cause ? You
never used to be busy always, you know !"
" How different he is on the wire from what he
is in reality !" thought Nattie, with a return of her
first disappointment, " and how hard it is to merge
the two in one !" But she answered,
" There is a first time for everything ; besides, I
have not felt like talking to-day."
" Not with me ?" queried " C."
" N o !" replied Nattie briefly, and to the point.
" C " held his key open a moment.
" I do not understand it," he said at last. " It
isn't possible that I have done anything to offend
you ?"
"Only offended me with the sight of you!"
thought Nattie ; but unwilling to be really impolite,
replied, " Certainly not !"
" You are not angry about yesterday, are you ?"
pursued " C."

" Good-By."

113

" Certainly not," repeated Nattie, adding to herself, " A faint idea that I did not exactly fall in
love with you is creeping into your red head, is
it?"
" If I have done anything, I beg you to tell me
what, for I am ignorant of it, and I assure you I am
penitent, and that I forgive you !" continued " C,"
" only please don't be cross to me !"
Nattie saw her opportunity for picking a
quarrel, and seized it.
" I do not know what you mean by my being
cross !" she said. " I am sure I was not aware that I
was obliged to talk to any one unless I felt like it.
I am not in the mood to-day, and I will not be
forced. You have no right to call me cross, and
when I am in the humor to talk with you again
I will let you know !"
"Very well !"." C " replied promptly, undoubtedly angry himself now ; " I will wait your pleasure !" and then was mute.
" It has not been quite so gradual as I intended,
but I think I have effectually settled the matter, and
my mind is relieved," thought Nattie; yet she
sighed, and her satisfaction was followed by depression, for with " C " departed the pleasantest part of
her office life, a fact she could not disguise. In the
week that followed, when " C," true to his word,
8

H4

" Good-By."

waited, saying nothing, she missed continually the
sympathy, the gay talk, the companionship that had
made the constantly-occurring annoyances endurable, and the days that dragged so now seem short.
The office business did not fill half her time, and the
constant confinement began to be irksome to her,
whose nature demanded activity ; in consequence,
she often grew impatient and answered unnecessary
questions of customers with a shortness that gave
considerable offence; and had it not been for Cyn,
who brought her sunny presence quite often into the
office, heedless of the " no admittance " on the door,
the monotony that had now displaced the romantic
side of telegraphy would have plunged Nattie
among the shadows almost constantly.
Of course the sudden cessation of the intimacy
between " C" and " N " was a theme of much surprise and bantering comments along the line, especially from "Em." But these facetious remarks
gradually became fewer as the wonder subsided.
One day, nearly two weeks after the " collapse/'
Nattie was surprised to hear the old familiar " B m—
B m—B m—X n." Wondering if he had grown tired
of waiting and was about to attempt a renewal of
their former friendship, Nattie rather impatiently
answered. But it proved he had a message, an
occurrence quite infrequent with him. This he

" Good-By."

115

sent without unnecessary words. But after she had
given " O. K." and closed her key, he opened his to
say,
" Please, don't you want to make up, N ?"
" I have nothing to make up !" Nattie replied.
" O. K." was " C's " response as he again subsided.
" He snubs easily!" thought Nattie, much relieved.
The following Saturday night, however, as she
was taking in from the shelf outside the blanks,
ink, and bad pens that excited the ire of irascible
customers, preparatory to closing, " C " once more
called. With a devout hope that he was not going
to be annoying, Nattie answered.
" Notwithstanding the late coolness between us,
which was not my fault, and for which I cannot account——" he began, and then some one with a rush
message broke, in.
" What is he coming at now I wonder—he commenced with a great display of words," thought
Nattie curiously ; and then with a little curl of her
lip, " a sentence out of some book, I suppose."
But as soon as the wire was quiet she said,
" To ' C Please g a—account."
" I could not leave, as I am about to do to-night,
without saying good-by, in remembrance of our
former pleasant intercourse," concluded " C."

n6

" Good-By.

"You mean you are leaving permanently?"
queried Nattie, surprised.
" Yes, this is my last day here. Monday I leave
town - and so, with much regret that anything unpleasant should have interrupted our acquaintance—
although what it was I assure you I do not know,
since you deign me no explanation—I will say, not
as I would once, au revoir, but good-by."
"Good-by," answered Nattie, forgetting for the
moment everything but " C," the old " C," the " C "
who had enlivened so many hours, and about whom
had dwelt that romantic mystery. " Good-by. Believe me, I shall always remember the many social
talks we have enjoyed."
" Possibly we might enjoy them again, if you desired," " C " said then, as if he gave her a chance for
explanation or to express such a wish.
But Nattie, recalling now the bears-grease, the
musk, the cheap jewelry and their obnoxious possessor, answered only,
"Good-by."

The Feast.

117

CHAPTER VIII.
T H E FEAST.

ONDERING discontentedly over the perplexities of life, a habit she had allowed herself to
indulge in quite frequently of late, one day
not long after the final exit of the once interesting
but now obnoxious " C," Nattie suddenly became
aware of a pair of merry brown eyes, belonging to a
fine-looking young gentleman, observing her critically, and with apparently no intention of discontinuing their scrutiny. At which, in her present
state of temper, Nattie turned very red and very angry. " I am not on exhibition," she thought, indignantly, and rising majestically, went towards him
with the curt inquiry,
" Did you wish to send a message, sir ?"
The young gentleman hesitated, and appeared
slightly embarrassed, but did not take his eyes from
her face, nevertheless.
" I merely wished to ask the tariff to Washington,"
he replied, at length.
"Forty cents," Nattie answered, shortly.
"Thank you," he said, but without moving, and

u8

The

Feast.

after a moment, as if desirous of o p e n i n g a conversation, he continued, smiling, " I hardly think I will
send a message to-day ; I presume you will not object
to being spared the trouble ?"
Nattie, h a v i n g

been

q u a r r e l i n g all

day with

intangible somethings, was rather glad than otherwise
to find a real object u p o n which she could vent the
unamiability resulting from her surplus discontent.
T h e y o u n g man's evident desire to talk more than
circumstances warranted, was displeasing to her, and
she rejoined very stiffly,
" It is a matter of perfect indifference to me," and
t u r n e d away.
W i t h an amused smile, he looked at the back thus
presented to his view, opened his lips to speak,
hesitated, and finally walked away.

Nattie, looking

after him out of the corners of her eyes, saw him
glance back as he opened the door, and

had a

remorseful feeling that perhaps she had been crosser
to him than he really deserved, for he was certainly
very

fine-looking.

But what was done could not be

undone, and with no expectation of ever seeing him
again, she dismissed the matter from her mind.
T h e best, perhaps the only really pleasant part of
Nattie's life now, was her evenings, passed almost
invariably with Cyn.

Indeed, Cyn seemed to be a

magnet, a r o u n d which all gathered—Quimby, al-

The Feast,

119

though, of course, Cyn herself was not his chief attraction—Celeste Fishblate, who determinedly pushed
herself into an intimacy, and Jo Norton, who, had it
not been for the fact so loudly proclaimed by himself,
of his having no sentiment in his soul, would have
been suspected of being on the road to falling in
love with Cyn, so strangely was he attracted to her
company. But this, of course, was impossible for
him !
"That will not do, dear," Cyn remarked, when
Nattie related her little adventure with the young
gentleman. "Do you know you have been in a
dreadful state of mind ever since ' C ' intruded his
personality ?"
Nattie colored a little as she replied, discontentedly, " Oh, it isn't that, I assure you ; the truth is, I
am ambitious, Cyn. I suppose I forgot it, slightly,
while I was so interested in ' C ;' but I cannot be content with a mere working on from day to day, in the
same old routine, and nothing more/'
Cyn looked at her scrutinizingly, as she asked,
" But in what particular way are you ambitious ? to
be rich, or what ?"
" Oh ! not for money !" Nattie answered, with a
slight contempt for that necessary and convenient
article. " I am ambitious for fame ! I want to be a
writer ; but when I think of the obstacles in my way,

120

The Feast.

to an opening, even, in that direction, I am daunted.
I have attacks of energy, it is true, but I fear it is
fitful ; it comes and goes."
" I understand," Cyn replied, with more than
wonted seriousness. " Your ambition is great enough
to render you useless and discontented, but you need
something to stimulate your energy, else it will
waste itself in idle dreams. Perhaps love may come
to be that motive power; perhaps—" and a shade
crossed her sunny face—"some great disappointment."
There was a moment's silence, Nattie pondering
thoughtfully on these words ; and then Cyn continued,
" But in the meantime, since you can at present
accomplish nothing, why^ not get all the enjoyment
you can out of life, as it goes ? So, when the opportunity comes, and you seize it, you will not have to
look back on years wasted in vain longings for the
then unattainable. That is my philosophy—and I,
too, am ambitious."
" Your philosophy is cheery, at least," said Nattie,
smiling. " But I am afraid it is very hard for ambitious people to take life easy : and that is not all
of my troubles," she continued, gayly, " I can't get
anything good to eat!"
"Poor child," said Cyn, with mock seriousness.

The Feast,

121

" this is coming from the sublime to the ridiculous.
"What is the cause of the lamentable fact ?"
" Oh ! I am so tired of both boarding-houses and
restaurants. In the former they never Tiave what
one likes—and ah ! such steak !—while in the latter
you have to pick out all the cheap dishes, or ruin
yourself at a meal."
Cyn laughed.
" I assure you I can appreciate your feelings,
from sad experience! I, myself, am positively
longing for a nice sirloin steak." Then, a sudden
thought striking her, " I will tell you what we will
do, Nat, we will have a little feast!"
" A feast ?" repeated Nattie, not exactly comprehending.
" Yes—I have a little gas stove—low be it said,
lest Mrs. Simonson hear and bring in a terrific bill
for extra gas !—I use it sometimes to cook my dinner, when I do not feel like going out, and why
should we not have a feast all to ourselves some
day ? and the sirloin steak shall be forthcoming !
and what do you say to Charlotte Russe ? In short,
we will have everything we can think of, and you
shall be assistant cook !"
" That would be splendid!" cried Nattie, delighted, " only it will have to be some Sunday, as
that is my only leisure day, you know."

122

The Feast.

" All the better, for then we will be less liable to
intrusion," responded Cyn, gayly. " So make a
memorandum to that effect, for next week. We
must not let Mrs. Simonson know, however, on
account of the gas stove ; I pay her too much rent
now. I am afraid we shall have a little difficulty
about dishes. The few I have are not exactly real
Sevres china, or even decently conventional.
But
"
" O h ! never mind the dishes !" interrupted
Nattie. "Anything will d o ! I have myself a
cracked tumbler, and a spoon, that will perhaps be
useful for something."
;
Agreeing therefore to hold dishes in strict contempt, the following Sunday found the two girls
with closed doors, in the midst of great preparations
for a truly Bohemian feast, as Cyn termed it;
Nattie with her crimps tied down in a blue handkerchief, and Cyn with her sleeves rolled up, and an
old skirt of a dress doing duty as apron.
" Let me see," said Nattie merrily, taking
account of stock. "Two pounds of steak—the
first cut of the sirloin, I think you said ?—waiting,
expectant of making glad our hearts, on the rockingchair, potatoes in plebeian lowliness under the table,
tomatoes and two pies on your trunk, Charlotte
Russes—delicious Charlotte Russes—where ? Ah !

The

Feast.

123

—on your bonnet-box, in a plate ordinarily used as
a card receiver, and sugar, butter, et cetera, and et
cetera lying around almost anywhere, and the figs,
oranges and homely, b u t necessary bread, where are
they ? I see, on top of ' Dombey & Son !' "
" A n d our dishes will not quarrel, because they
are

none of

laughed

them any relation to each

Cyn, as

she peeled

the

fear goblets will have to take

other !"

tomatoes.

upon

" I

themselves

the duties of cups, and that cracked tumbler of
yours must be used for something.

I am sorry that

saucepan is so dilapidated, b u t it is the best I own !"
" A n d in that saucepan we must both boil the
potatoes and stew the tomatoes.

W o n ' t one cool

while the other is doing ?" queried Nattie, hovering
lovingly over the steak.
" I think

not;"

Cyn answered.

" You

won't

m i n d the coffee being boiled in a tin can, once the
repository of preserved peaches, will you ?"
"Ah,

no!"

replied

Nattie

emphatically,

and

sawing at the steak with a very dull knife, without a
handle.

" It will be just as good when it's poured

out."
" I had a coffee-pot once, but I melted the nose
off and forgot to b u y another yesterday," Cyn said,
p u t t i n g on the potatoes.
" W e will call our contrivance a coffee-urn ; it

124

The Feast.

sounds aristocratic," suggested Nattie, as she cleared
the books from the least shaky table, and spread it
with three towels, in lieu of a table-cloth. " But
what shall we do for plates to put the pies on ?"
"Take those two wooden box covers in the
closet," promptly responded Cyn. "That is right,
and see, here is room also for the coffee—pardon me,
I had almost said commonplace coffee-pot!"
" But the tomato ! what can we pour that in ?"
suddenly exclaimed Nattie, with great concern.
Cyn scanned every object in the room with dismay.
"The—the wash-bowl!" she insinuated at last,
determined not to be daunted.
" Don't you think it rather large ? to say nothing
of its being too suggestive ?" said Nattie, laughing.
Cyn did not press the point, but shook her head,
dubiously.
" I have it!" cried Nattie, "there is a fruit-dish in
my room."
" Just the thing !" interrupted Cyn ecstatically,
" I will run and bring it, if you will attend to the
cooking."
" Look out for Miss Kling," said Nattie, warningly ; " if she catches a glimpse of you making off
with my fruit-dish, she will never rest until she finds
out everything."
"Rely on me for secrecy and dispatch," said Cyn,

The Feast.

125

going. " If she sees me, I will mention nuts and
raisins ; merely mention them, you know."
But Miss Kling, for once, was napping; perhaps
dreaming of him Cyn called the Torpedo—Celeste's
father—and she obtained the dish, reached her own
door again without being seen by any one except
the Duchess, and was congratulating herself on hei
good luck, when suddenly, like an apparition,
Quimby stood-before her.
Cyn started, murmured something about
" oranges," slipped the soap-dish she had also
confiscated into her pocket, and tried to make the
big fruit-dish appear as small as possible.
She might, however, have spared herself any
uneasiness, for this always the most unobservant
of mortals, was too much overburdened with some
affair of his own, to notice even a two-quart dish.
" O h ! I—I beg pardon, I—I was coming with a
a—request to your room," he said eagerly. " I—
would it be too much to—to bring a friend, he
knows no one here, and I am sure he and you
would fraternize at once, if I might bring him,
you know."
" Certainly-T-yes !" replied Cyn, too anxious to
get away to pay much attention to his words,
particularly as an odor of steak reached her nostrils.

126

The Feast.

"Thank you ! I—I never knew any one who
understood me as well as you !" he said with a
grateful bow, and without more words, Cyn left
him.
" How long you have been gone !" Nattie remarked, looking up, her cheeks very red, and her
nose embellished with a streak of smut, as Cyn
entered. " Did you see any one ?"
" N o one except Quimby, who stopped me to
ask about bringing a friend to call some evening,"
Cyn replied, displaying the fruit, and producing
the soap-dish.
" Mercy on u s ! " Nattie said, looking rather
aghast, "it is rather large, isn't it? and what did
you bring that soap-dish for ?"
" I thought it might come handy," laughed Cyn.
We will make a potato holder of it for the time.
' To what base uses may we come at last V—Why—"
in a tone of surprise, " here is the Duchess !"
And sure enough, up by the window sat that
sagacious animal, winking and blinking complacently, and evidently determined to be a third in the
feast.
" She came in unnoticed under the shadow that
fruit-dish threw," said Nattie, teasingly.
Cyn shook an oyster fork at her threateningly.
" Say another such word and you shall have no

The Feast.

127

steak!" she said tragically, " instead, a dungeon
shall be your doom. We will let the Duchess
remain as a receiver of odds and ends. I suppose
her suspicions were excited by the sight of these
articles. A rare cat! a learned cat ! now please set
the table, for our feast will soon be prepared I" and
Cyn bent over the sizzling steak, that emitted a
most appetizing odor.
Setting that table was no such easy matter as
might appear, for what with the big fruit-dish,
wooden covers, different sizes of plates and other
incongruous articles, considerable management was
necessary.
" I shall have to put the sugar on in the bag,"
Nattie said, incautiously backing to view the general
effect, and so stumbling over the saucepan of potatoes
that sat on the floor, but luckily doing no damage.
"^Ah, well ! Eccentricity is quite the rage now,
you know," responded the philosophical Cyn, " and
certainly, a sugar-bowl so closely resembling a brown
paper bag as not to be distinguishable from the real
thing, is quite recherche. But my dear Nat, where
am I to set the steak if you have that big fruit-dish
in the center of the table, taking up all the room ?"
" I shall have to put it on the floor, then," Nattie
answered, despairingly, "for I have tried it on all
parts of the table ! If you set it on the edge," she

128

The Feast.

added hastily, seeing Cyn about to do so, "you will
tip the whole thing over !"
" Then we must have a side-board," Cyn announced, with a plate of steak in one hand, and the
big fruit-dish in the other. " Put my writing-desk
on a chair, please ; spread a towel over it, and there
you have it!"
" But what a quantity of eatables we have ! Two
pounds of steak, ten big potatoes, a two-quart dish
of tomatoes, two large pies, two Charlotte Russes, an
urn of coffee, a dozen oranges and a box of figs—good
gracious ! Think of two people eating all that !"
exclaimed Nattie, decidedly dismayed at the prospect.
" It is considerable," Cyn confessed, surveying
the array with a slightly daunted expression.
"You see I am not used to buying for a family,
and I was afraid of getting too little. But," brightening, " there isn't more than one quart of the
tomatoes, and there are three of us, you know—the
Duchess !"
" To be sure ; I had forgotten her !" Nattie said,
recovering her equanimity, and glancing at the purring animal, who was looking on approvingly, and
evidently appreciated the difference between sirloin
and her usual rations of round.
"Then let the revels commence, at once!" cried

The Feast,

129

Cyn, rolling down her sleeves, while Nattie wiped
the smut from her face.
But now another difficulty presented itself ; the
chairs were all too low to admit of feasting with
the anticipated rapture ; this was soon overcome,
however, by piling a few books in the highest chair,
and appropriating the music-stool.
" Now for a feast," exclaimed Nattie, exultantly,
as they sat down triumphant, and she brandished
her very big knife and extremely small fork, while
Cyn poured the coffee from the—urn ; an undertaking attended with some difficulty, and requiring caution ; and the Duchess looked on expectantly.
And then—the goal almost reached—upon their
startled ears came a dreadful sound—the sound of a
knock at the door !
Down to the ground went Nattie's knife and
fork, the coffee-urn narrowly escaped a similar fate,
up went the back of the Duchess, and two dismay e*d
Bohemians and one impatient cat gazed at each
other.
9

130

Unexpected Visitors.

CHAPTER
UNEXPECTED

IX.
VISITORS.

T must be Miss Kling, overpowered by
curiosity !" murmured Nattie.
" No !" answered Cyn in a stage whisper,
" the knock is too timid. Good gracious ! there
it is again ! Stand in front of the gas stove, Nat,
lest it be Mrs. Simonson, while I go and invent
some excuse for not letting in whoever it is."
And having given these hasty directions, Cyn
opened the door the smallest possible crack. As
she did so, and before she could speak, it was
pushed back violently, almost knocking her over,
and in burst Quimby. This, however, might not
have much disconcerted them, as he could have been
disposed of easily enough, had not at his heels came
a tall, fine-looking young man, a perfect stranger to
both Cyn and Nattie.
" You see I keep my word \" was the enigmatical
remark the smiling Quimby made as he entered.
Then, catching sight of the festive board, he stopped
short and stared, with an utterly confounded face, at
that, at the embarrassed Nattie* at Cyn, behind the
door, and at the saucepan cover, which, embellished

Unexpected Visiiors.

131

with potato parings, occupied a prominent position
in the middle of the floor.
His companion also paused, a surprised and
amused smile lurking in his merry brown eyes as
he looked at Nattie, seemingly regardless of anything else in the room.
Cyn was the first to recover from the general
petrifaction, and with the involuntary thought,
" what an excellent stage situation !" came from
behind the door, where Quimby's impetuous entrance had thrust her, saying, with as much ease as
she could possibly gather together,
" Don't be frightened at what you see, friend
Quimby ; we were only extemporizing a little feast,
that is all. Will you join us ?"
But Quimby only stared harder than ever ; he
was evidently struck speechless.
His companion, thus placed in the awkward
position of an unintroduced intruder, withdrew his
eyes from Nattie, took in the situation at a glance,
and turning to Cyn, said, smiling,
" I think we owe you an apology for our intrusion ; my friend Quimby, on whom I called to-day,
in pity for my being a stranger in the city, kindly
offered to introduce me to some friends of his. He
informed me we were expected, but I fear we have
made a mistake."

132

Unexpected

Visitors.

At this Quimby recovered his voice.
" No !" he cried, in stentorian tones, " it was not—
I cannot have made a mistake this time, you know !
Cyn "—looking at her reproachfully—" you knew
about it! I met you a short time ago, and asked you
—and you said we might come, you know !"
Half amazed and half amused, Cyn shook her
head in denial, at which action Quimby started and
turned pale.
" Why I—I beg pardon—but in the hall! you
said, ' certainly,' you know !"
" O h ! " said Cyn, a light breaking in upon her,
" I see, but I did not then understand you, I suppose ;"
rallying from her embarrassment, " my mind was so
occupied with our feast, I Was incapable of thinking
of anything else ; so please consider this an apology
for the condition in which you find us, to yourself
and your friend, whom, you will pardon me for re*
minding you, you have not introduced," and Cyn
looking laughingly at the stranger, who also laughed.
" Oh ! I—I beg pardon, I am sure, for—for all my
stupidities. I—I am always doing something wrong,
but I—I am used to it, you know," said the disconcerted Quimby ; then wiping the perspiration from
his forehead, he added clumsily, "my friend, Mr.
Stanwood—Cyn—:and Miss—Miss Rogers."
Mr. Stanwood gayly shook hands with Cyn,

Unexpected

Visitors.

133

whom Q u i m b y had nervously forgotten to h o n o r
with a Miss, and then advanced to Nattie, who had
not stirred from her position as screen for the gas
stove, saying,
" I am delighted to make y o u r

acquaintance,

Miss R o g e r s . "
A n d as Nattie accepted his proffered hand, in an
embarrassed way, not yet being able to rise to t h e
situation, and observed the peculiarly roguish expression with which he regarded her, she suddenly
became aware that she had seen him on some previous occasion, but where she was utterly at loss to
remember.
Cyn, too, was struck by something a little odd
in his m a n n e r to Nattie, a n d glanced at him curiously, as she said in her most cordial tones,
" A n d now, gentlemen, as we have exchanged
apologies all around, please be seated."
Q u i m b y immediately bounced u p from the musicstool, on which, in his agitation, he had involuntarily
dropped.
" O h , no !" he exclaimed hastily.

" We—we did

did not come to dinner, you k n o w !"
Cyn smiled at

Q u i m b y ' s anxiety to disclaim

intentions no one t h o u g h t of attributing to him, a n d
t u r n i n g to Mr v Stanwood, asked, thereby
scandalizing Nattie,

greatly

134

Unexpected

Visitors.

" But supposing you were invited to stay and
share our banquet, would you ?"
" Were I sure the invitation was heartfelt, I
should be sorely tempted ; wouldn't you, Quimby ?"
Mr. Stanwood replied, easily.
Poor Quimby twirled his thumbs confusedly, and
murmured something about leaving the ladies to
enjoy their " feast " alone.
" We have eatables enough for six, as Nat was
just now intimating/' went on Cyn, who certainly
had a touch of true Bohemianism in her composition, as well as Jo Norton. " But our dishes, 'ay,
there's the rub,' " and she laughingly held up the
coffee-urn, while the less adaptable Nattie thought
apprehensively of the propensity of things to cool.
Undaunted by the urn, Mr. Stanwood said, with
humorous wistfulness, but looking at Nattie,
" You won't force us to eat the dishes, will you ?
and that steak smells so nice, and I haven't had any
dinner !"
" Then away with ceremony and sit down to the
banquet !" said the reckless Cyn, regardless of the
protest in Nattie's face ; and truth to tell, the former
young lady was not at all averse to this addition to
their number.
And to the consternation of Quimby, and dismay
of Nattie, and possibly a little to the surprise of

Unexpected

Visitors.

135

Cyn, Mr. S t a n w o o d replied by seating himself down
in a rocking-chair, a n d saying gayly,
u

I feel positive that I am about to enjoy mysetf

as I have not since I was a boy, and stole eggs, and
cooked t h e m on a flat rock behind m y uncle's barn,
a n d had r a w t u r n i p for dessert.
Upon

this

Sit down, Q u i m b y ! "

Q u i m b y , with a b l u s h i n g

protest

against an intrusion, that did not seem to t r o u b l e
his.merry friend in the least, also sat down.
A s he did so, Nattie screamed ; but too late.

On

the c r o w n i n g g l o r y of the feast, on those e n t i c i n g
Charlotte Russes, crowded from the table on to a
chair, there was Q u i m b y !
" Bless my s o u l ! what is the m a t t e r ?" he asked,
staring astounded at Nattie's scream, b u t still sitting
there, entirely

unconscious

of

the ruin he had

wrought.
Cyn's a n g u i s h k n e w no bounds, as she saw what
had happened.
" G e t u p !" she cried, w r i n g i n g her hands, " can't
y o u get u p ? g o o d g r a c i o u s ! don't you k n o w what
y o u are s i t t i n g on ?"
" E h ?" he queried, rising obediently, and l o o k i n g
at her with a b l a n k expression.

" Sitting on ?" then

following her frantic gesture, he t u r n e d and looked
at the chair behind him, and instantly h o r r o r overspread his countenance.

136

Unexpected Visitors.

"Bless my soul!" he gasped, turning round and
round, trying to get a glimpse of his own coat-tails.
" H o w did it come there ? what is it ?"
" I t is—was Charlotte Russe/" said Nattie, in
gloomy despair,
" Charlotte Russe /" echoed Quimby, still turning
himself around like a revolving light. " It—it don't
look much like it, you know !"
At this, Mr. Stanwood, who had with difficulty
suppressed his laughter until now, burst into an
uncontrollable roar, in which he was joined by Cyn,
and then by Nattie. They laughed until utterly
exhausted, Quimby all the time keeping up his
rotatory motion, with a face whose lugubriousness
cannot be described.
«I—1—bless my soul! I will replace what I
have destroyed ! I—I assure you, I will !" the unfortunate Quimby groaned, as soon as he could be
heard. " L—what can I say, to express my sorrow
-—I—" and suddenly ceasing to revolve, he snatched
Mr. Stanwood's hat, and started for the door.
" Where are you going !" his friend questioned
as gravely as he could.
" More Charlotte Russes !" he responded incoherently, and with an agonized face.
" If I may be permitted to make a suggestion,"
said Mr. Stanwood with labored gravity, " I should

Unexpected

Visitors.

137

say, some little change in y o u r toilet w o u l d be quite
appropriate before g o i n g on the street, a n d m o r e over, that m y hat will not fit y o u r head !"
At this, Q u i m b y d r o p p e d the hat he held as if it
had been red-hot, glanced at the chair whereon h e
had so lately distinguished himself, took u p t h e
tails of his coat one in each hand, revolved again,
and then without a w o r d darted from the room.
As well as she could from l a u g h i n g , Cyn called
after him, telling him not to mind about g e t t i n g the
Charlotte Russes, and to h u r r y back, b u t he m a d e
no response.
" P o o r Q u i m b y !" said Mr. Stanwood, w i p i n g t h e
tears of excessive m i r t h from his eyes. " H e is such a
good fellow, it is too bad he always is in hot water."
" Yes," assented Cyn, r e m o v i n g the chair with
the remains of what had been clinging to it from
sight, Nattie following it with a somewhat
glance.

" Shall we

wait

for

him ? I fear

rueful
our

d i n n e r is g e t t i n g cold."
" I don't think we had better," Nattie, w h o had
l o n g been filled with a similar presentiment, responded.

" T h e r e is no k n o w i n g w h e t h e r he will

r e t u r n or not, and it's n o use in h a v i n g everything
spoiled."
" I do not t h i n k he will expect u s to wait," Mr.
S t a n w o o d said.

138

Unexpected

Visitors.

"Well then," said Cyn, "here i s a chair for you,
Mr. Stanwood. It's all right, so you need not look
before sitting. Luckily you are taller than we, and
need no books to raise you. Now the question is,
what shall we give you to eat from ? Ah ! here is
the bread plate ! Nat, can't you find another
wooden cover ? No ? Then spread a piece of
brown paper over ' Scribner's.' How fortunate
we have an extra knife and fork ; you don't mind
their being oyster forks ? I thought not ! Nat
and I will use the same spoon, so you can have
a whole one. Nat, you and I will have to drink
from that cracked tumbler."
"Allow me," interrupted Mr. Stanwood. " D o
you know/' solemnly, " a cracked tumbler is and
always was the height of my ambition."
" Well then, we are all right !" said the jovial
Cyn. " But I fear," she added, helping to steak,
" if Quimby comes before we finish, he will have to
go foraging for his own dishes !"
Mr. Stanwood was praising the steak, which he
certainly ate. as if the admiration was genuine, when
a timid rap announced Quimby's reappearance
on the scene. In complete change of raiment,
smelling like a field of new-mown hay, and figuratively clothed in sackcloth and ashes, he entered.
" I—I beg pardon," he said, looking not at those

Unexpected Visitors.

139

he addressed, but humbly at the Duchess, who
had been walking the floor impatiently and indignantly, but was now contentedly chewing. " I—I
assure you I sfiall be delighted to go out and get
Charlotte Russes to replace those I so wantonly
destroyed. Will you—may I be allowed?"
" Not on any account," said Cyn, quickly. " Besides, the stores are closed to-day."
" So they are, so they are !" he exclaimed, putting
his hand to his head dejectedly.
" But we can exist without Charlotte Russes, I
think," Nattie said. She had quite recovered her
good humor, and was reconciled even to Mr. Stanwood's company ; indeed, had secretly confessed he
was really an acquisition. Such is the power of
good beefsteak !
"Some other time we will talk about'it," Cyn
said. " And now, we must improvise you a cup,
plate, knife, fork, and spoon. I know you must be
hungry after your exploit."
Quimby blushed.
"I—you shall have fifty Charlotte Russes tomorrow!" he ejaculated. "But the articles you
mention—I—have in my room, and will bring them.
You see I—sometimes have a little private lunch
myself, you know," and departing, he in a moment
returned with his dinner accouterments, which Cyn

140

Unexpected. Visitors.

commanded him to put down at once, lest he demolish them.
" Let me see," she added, as he meekly deposited
his burden on the nearest piece of furniture—which
happened to be the piano. " I can make room for
you here, next me, I think."
" N o ! no !" he exclaimed quickly ; "if you will
be so kind, I—I would rather sit on that little stool
in the corner, where I can do no damage, you
know !"
" Oh ! we must not make a martyr of you !"
laughed Nattie, as she cut a pie with a very dull
knife, which caused the very unsteady table to shake,
so that every one's coffee slopped over.
" No, indeed; there is plenty of room here,"
added Mr. Stanwood, steadying his cracked tumbler. But Quimby shook his head.
"Now, really—I—I shall feel much more comfortable if I may—-if you will allow me to sit on the
stool. I—I am used to it, you know ! 'Pon my
word, I—I mean all right, but some way I always
make a mess of it !"
Cyn would have remonstrated further, but Mr.
Stanwood said, " We had better let him be happy in
his own way; I suppose he will not be easy unless
we do !"
And so Quimby, much to his satisfaction, was

Unexpected Visitors.

141

allowed to eat his share of the feast on a low stool,
in the corner, like a naughty school-boy.
Visitors were destined to be numerous to-day,
for hardly had Quimby been served, when a knock
at the door was followed by the appearance of Jo,
who tip-toed into the room, and in a mysterious
whisper, said,
" I saw Quimby enter this room, bearing utensils
that could only be used for one purpose ! I smelt a
savory odor ! and here I am !"
"And welcome, t o o ! " said Cyn, laughing;
" come, sit here by me. Are you and Mr. Stanwood
acquainted ?"
"Oh, yes !" replied Jo, perching himself on the
arm of a rocking-chair close to Cyn, and appropriating a wooden cover for a plate as he spoke. " He
and Quimby did me the honor to call on me to-day,
but left for metal more attractive—whether the
dinner or you ladies, I will not pretend to say !"
" I t was we ladies, you dreadful matter-of-fact
creature!" said Nattie. " Their presence at the
dinner was quite accidental ; Cyn and I started out
for a little quiet feast, and behold the result !
Bohemian enough for even you, isn't it, Jo ?"
" Exactly what I like !" replied Jo—and very close
indeed to Cyn had Jo managed to get, but then the
table was very small—"But the idea of you two

142

Unexpected Visitors,

girls proposing to selfishly enjoy such a feast all
alone !"
" I begin to think we did make a mistake, in not
making preparations for, and inviting a larger
party," acquiesced Cyn.
" I wonder if Miss Rogers has overcome her
anger towards offending me ?" questioned Mr.
Stanwood, looking at her roguishly, as she helped
him to a second piece of pie.
"My anger towards you?" repeated Nattie,
coloring.
" Yes; you did not want me to accept Miss
Archer's most kind invitation, and remain ; now confess, did you ?" he asked, laughing.
Nattie was rather embarrassed at this instance
of the young gentleman's perceptive faculties, and
not exactly able to refute the charge, was somewhat
at loss how to reply.
" I—I do not get acquainted quite so easily as
Cyn," she stammered.
" Except on the wire !" Cyn added.
" Except on the wire," repeated Nattie, with a
smile; then meeting the curious glance of Mr.
Stanwood, it suddenly flashed upon her that he was
the same young gentleman who had called at the
office, and inquired about the tariff to Washington,
for the sole object of talking, as she then supposed-

Unexpected Visitors.

143

" I have seen you before !" she exclaimed, on the
impulse of the moment.
" That sounds like a novel ! what is coming
now?" ejaculated Jo, with his mouth full of pie.
Mr. Stanwood laughed very heartily at Nattie's
exclamation, and asked in reply,
" Have you just discovered it ? I recognized you
the moment I entered the room to-day. That is one
reason I was so anxious to remain. She snubbed
me most outrageously," he added to Cyn, in explanation, " and simply because I tried to be agreeable
to her one day at the office."
" But you had no business to be agreeable !"
said Nattie, also laughing* and not at all displeased.
" Of course you had not," interrupted Jo.
" I never talk to strangers," concluded Nattie.
" Except, perhaps, on the wire, as you said just
now !" he suggested.
" You have caught her now !" said Cyn gayly, as
she peeled an orange. "But you will never do
even that again, will you, Nat ?"
" One such experience is quite enough for me,"
Nattie replied.
" Still, the next one might not have red hair, or
smell of musk !" Jo remarked.
" H e might be even worse, though !" interposed
the penitent on the stool.

144

Unexpected

Visitors,

With a strangely puzzled look, Mr. Stanwood
glanced from one to the other, observing which,
Cyn said,
"You don't understand, of course. May I tell
him, Nat?"
" A h ! well—yes !" Nattie replied with an air of
vexed resignation. " I suppose I may as well make
up my mind to be laughed at on account of that
story forever and a day."
" I am as much of a victim as you, for I was
intensely interested in the unknown," laughed Cyn ;
then turning to Mr. Stanwood, she went on. " It
appears telegraph operators have a way of talking
together over the wire, knowing little about each
other, and nothing at all of their mutual personal
appearance. In this manner, Nat became acquainted
with a young man whom she knew as ' C,' and
grew, to speak mildly, interested in him—Now, Nat,
you know you did—and so, as I remarked previously, did I—we were introduced over the wire.
In fact, he seemed everything that was nice and
agreeable, and if we did not actually fall in love
with him—you see, I am sharing your glory all
I can, Nat—it is a wonder."
"If this CC knew the impression he made on
two young ladies, he would certainly feel compli-

Unexpected Visitors.

145

mented," Mr. Stanwood, who was playing with his
knife and fork, here interrupted.
" Fortunately, he never really knew," replied
Cyn, while Nattie looked somewhat gloomily at
her goblet of coffee, in memory of the romance that
collapsed. "To continue this ower true tale !—Thus
far all was mysterious, enchanting, romantic. But
now comes the dark sequel. One day ' C ' called—
bodily."
Mr. Stanwood started and looked quickly up at
Nattie, who, without observing his glance, murmured contemptuously,
" Odious creature!"
At this he turned with a perplexed look again
to Cyn, who proceeded.
" Yes, an odious creature he proved to be. Only
think, he had red hair, and dreadful teeth, smelt of
musk, wore cheap jewelry, and, in short, was decidedly vulgar !"
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Stanwood, staring at
her as if he thought she was bereft of her senses.
" What !" and he dropped his knife and fork, and
pushed his chair back violently, to the alarm of the
Duchess, who was immediately behind.
Cyn appeared astonished at his vehemence ; but
Nattie, too occupied with thoughts of this newlyrevived grievance to observe it, repeated,
10

146

Unexpected Visitors.

" Red hair, all bear's grease, and everything to
match!"
" D o you mean to tell me," Mr. Stanwood asked,
looking at her earnestly, and speaking with great
energy, "that a person, such as you describe, called
on you and represented himself to be ' C ' ?"
"Exactly," Nattie replied; " first telling me he
was going away to substitute for a day, and then
coming upon me in all his odiousness."
" The story seems to interest you," added Cyn,
glancing at him scrutinizingly.
Mr. Stanwood looked at her, at Nattie, mused a
moment, and then burst into a laugh, equal even to
the one Quimby had caused.
" It does interest me," he said, as soon as he
could speak; "very much, indeed. It is really the
best joke—considered from one point—I ever heard.
And, of course, after that day, ' C ' was cut ?"
"Indeed'he was," Nattie replied, scornfully.
" The circuit was broken after that!" Jo added,
technically.
" And a romance was spoiled in the first act,"
added Cyn, rising from the now vanished feast.
" Poor ' C ' ! " said Mr. Stanwood, following her
example. " Really, Miss Archer, I have enjoyed
this dinner better than any I ever had, and the
climax is the best of all!"

Unexpected Visitors.

147

" I wish we might have such a feast every day!"
said Jo, regretfully.
"And, except the damage—I don't refer to any
done myself, I—I am used to it, you know—I quite
agree with you about the dinner. And as for the
joke—I—I—really it was quite a serious one to
Miss Rogers, at the time, I assure you. Bless my
soul! You should have seen how—how blue she
was for a week, you know !" said Quimby.
Nattie colored as Mr. Stanwood glanced at
her, and knowing he could not but notice the blush,
thought angrily, " How dreadful it is to have such
honest, outspoken people as Quimby about !"
"Come, Nat, and help me clear away the remains," said Cyn. Apparently glad enough was
Nattie to obey, and turn aside her burning face
from the sight of those merry brown eyes.
In a very few moments the banqueting hall was
transformed to a parlor, with only Quimby sucking
an orange on his stool that he refused to leave, Jo
cracking nuts, and the Duchess eating a fig, to tell
of what had been.

148

The Broken Circuit

Re-united.

C H A P T E R X.
THE BROKEN CIRCUIT RE-UNITED.

R. STAN WOOD sat down at the table where
Nattie was looking over Cyn's album, and
seemed to have become very thoughtful ;
Cyn meanwhile busied herself in dressing an ugly
gash the ever-unfortunate Quimby had managed to
inflict on his hand.
Suddenly Nattie was disturbed by Mr. Stanwood
drumming with a pencil on the marble top of the
table, and glancing up casually, observed his eyes
fixed upon her with a peculiar expression, and at
the same moment her ear seemed to catch a familiar
sound. With a slight start she listened more attentively to his seemingly idle drumming. Yes—
whether knowingly, or by accident, he certainly was
making dots and dashes, and what is more, was
making N's !
" Twill soon ascertain if he means it or not!"
thought Nattie, and seizing a pair of scissors, the
only adaptable instrument handy, she drummed out,
slowly, on account of the imperfectness of her impromptu key—pretending all the while to be entirely absorbed in the album,

The Broken Circuit Re-united.

149

" Are you an operator ?"
Mr. Stanwood, in his turn, seemingly deeply
engaged in the contents of a book, immediately
drummed in response,
" Yes."
Nattie felt the color come into her face.
" Oh, dear !" she thought, " and Cyn told him
that ridiculous story ! Every operator in town
will know it now." Then with the scissors she
asked,
"Why didn't you say so? Where is your office?"
" I have none now," the pencil answered, while
Cyn, glancing across the room, wondered to see
the two so studious, and unsuspiciously asked
Quimby if he supposed they were practicing for a
drum corps ? After a few meaningless dots, the
pencil went on,
" A little girl at B m was dreadfully sold one
day !"
The album Nattie held fell from her hands
as she stared petrified at her vis-a-vis, who kept his
eyes on his book with the most innocent expression
imaginable, one that even a Chinaman could not
have equaled. Where could he have heard those
words, once so familiar ? A moment's thought
gave her the most probable key.
"You are in the main office of this city, and

150

The Broken Circuit

Re-united.

have heard me talking with / C ' !" she wrote, as
fast as the scissors would let her.
"No, to the first of your surmise," came from the
pencil, " and yes to the last."
" What office were you in ?" the scissors asked.
" X n , " responded the pencil.
" What! with i C ' ?" asked the scissors, and if
ever there was a pair of excited scissors, these were
the ones.
" Well—yes," replied the pencil with provoking
slowness. u Don't you ' C' the point ? Can't you
' C ' that you did not ' C ' the ' C ' you thought
you did ' C ' that day ?"
Nattie's breath came fast, and her hand trembled
so she could not hold the scissors. With a crash
they dropped on the table, making one loud, long
dash. But the imperturbable pencil went on calmly,
" It was all a mistake. I am—' C '!"
Disdaining scissors and pencil, Nattie started
up, exclaiming vehemently,
" What do you mean ? it can't be possible !"
The consternation of Cyn, who was just informing Quimby that his wound would do very well
now, the horror of the patient, and the surprise of
Jo Norton at this emphatic and unaccountable
outburst from the hitherto so silent Nattie was
indescribable.

The Broken Circuit Re-united.

151

" Good gracious, Nat ! what in the world is
the matter ?" cried Cyn, starting up and bringing
the bottle of liniment she held in violent contact
with Quimby's head, a circumstance that even the
victim did not notice, so absorbed was he in amazement.
At Nattie's exclamation, Mr. Stanwood threw
aside his book, pencil, and innocent countenance
together, and regardless of any one but her, sprang
to his feet, advanced with both hands extended, and
shining eyes, saying,
" I mean just what I said, it is possible !"
Hardly knowing what she did, utterly confused
and bewildered, Nattie placed her hand in the two
that clasped it, while Cyn stared with distended eyes,
Quimby with wide-open mouth, and Jo gave a long
whistle. Cyn was first to recover, and began to scold.
" Well," she exclaimed, " this is a pretty piece of
business, never yet played on any stage, I should
think ! Nat, will you, or will somebody have the
goodness to explain this sudden and extraordinary
scene ?"
" I—I don't understand !" Nattie murmured
faintly, and looking half-frightened, and halfbeseechingly at Mr. Stanwood, who in response
smiled and said, with a firmer clasp of the hand he
still held,

152

The Broken Circuit

Re-united.

" I will explain in a very few moments how
it is possible that I am the real ' C M "
" What!" screamed Cyn.
" What!" shouted Jo.
" What! !" absolutely yelled Quimby.
" There has been a mistake!" Mr. Stanwood
said, now looking at Cyn.
" A mistake!" she repeated excitedly, "what
do you mean ? You * C,' our ' C/ of the wire ?
Nonsense ! You are joking!"
"Yes, he is joking !" Quimby reiterated, but his
teeth chattered as he spoke. " H e is a dreadful
fellow to joke, Clem is !"
" Clem!" cried Cyn and Nattie, in the same
breath.
" Do you begin to believe me ?" said the gentleman who had caused all this disturbance, and
looking at Nattie, who now becoming conscious
that her hand was yet in his, withdrew it hastily,
with a deep blush.
" I don't know what to think !" cried Cyn.
" D o explain something, quick, or I shall burst
a blood-vessel with impatience; I know I shall !"
exclaimed Jo.
Mr. Stanwood complied, by saying,
"The fact of the case is simply this. That redhaired young man, so graphically described by you

The Broken Circuit Re-united.

153

girls, that c odious creature/ was the operator I went
to substitute for that day !"
" Oh !" said Nattie, a light beginning to break
upon her.
" But how
" commenced Cyn.
" I will tell you how, if you will be patient," Mr.
Stanwood interrupted, smiling. " His office, as you,"
looking at Nattie, " remember, had once been on
our wire. He had heard ' N ' and I talking, and
in fact had often annoyed us by breaking. So,
as he was at the city, he took the opportunity to pass
himself off for me ; perhaps for the sake of a joke,
perhaps from more malicious motives. I recognized
his description at once, from your story to-day, and
I remember, too, his telling me on his return, that he
knew the best joke of the season ; a remark I did
not notice, never supposing it concerned me."
" Yes !" said Nattie, eagerly, " and he was very
particular to ask me not to mention his call, on the
wire."
" I do not suppose he imagined but we would
eventually discover the fraud, however; and so we
should, had not you," looking rather reproachfully
at Nattie, " in your haste to drop so undesirable an
acquaintance, avoided the least hint of the true
cause. How the dickens was I to know what was

154

The Broken Circuit

Re-united.

the matter? I puzzled my brains enough over it, I
assure you."
" And that red-headed impostor has been chuckling in his sleeve ever since, I suppose," said Cyn, indignantly ; then seizing Mr. Stanwood by the arms,
she cried, in a transport of delight, " and it really
is true ? you are our ' C ?' "
" What! am I not yet believed ?" he questioned,
laughing ; " what more shall I do to convince you
of my identity ? you accepted our red-headed friend
readily enough !"
" Oh ! I believe you !" cried Nattie, eagerly ; then
stopped, and colored, abashed at her own so plainly
shown delight.
But Mr. Stanwood looked at her with a gratified
expression in his brown eyes.
" And you will not snub me any more, will you ?"
he said, pleadingly ; "because I never use bear's
grease or musk, and my hair isn't red a bit !"
" I will try and make amends," Nattie answered,
shyly ; adding, " I ought to have known there was
some mistake. I never could reconcile that creature
and—and'CM"
" Then I may flatter myself that I am an improvement ?" asked Mr. Stanwood, merrily; at
which Nattie murmured something about fishing
for compliments, and Cyn replied gayly,

The Broken Circuit Re-united.

155

" Yes ; because you have curly hair ! You remember what I said on the wire, via Nat ?"
" Could I forget ?" he replied, gallantly.
" And it isn't a dream ! You are ' C,' the real
< C / " replied Cyn, pinching herself, and then
seizing Nattie, who, from the suddenness of it all
was yet in a semi-bewildered state—there was not a
bit of unhappiness in it, though—waltzed ecstatically around the room, crying, " O h ! I am so
glad ! I am so glad !"
At this point Quimby, who, during the preceding
explanation had listened with a face illustrating
every variety of consternation and dismay, attracted
attention to himself by an audible groan, observing
which, he muttered something about his " wound "
—-the word had a double meaning for him then,
poor fellow!—and rising, came forward, took his
friend by the shoulder, and asked, solemnly,
" Now, Clem—I—I beg pardon—but is it—is
this all true, and—and not one of your jokes, you
know ? Honestly, are you that—that ' C ' ?"
" Here is a doubting Thomas for you !" cried
Clem, gayly. " But, upon my word of honor, old
boy, I truly and honestly am 'that C,' and I suppose
you were the ' other visitor of no consequence,' who
called with Miss Archer that day I was favored

156

The Broken Circuit

Re-united.

by an introduction to her. How little I thought
it then !"
" How little / thought it!" groaned Quimby, as
his hand fell dejectedly from Clem's shoulder.
" But I—I am used to it, you know !" So saying he
sank into a chair. That he had brought about such
a result as this—that he had resurrected the dreaded
" C " from the grave of musk and bear's grease was
too much.
" But now that all is explained, I am really not
sorry for the mistake," Clem said, utterly unconscious of his friend's state of mind. " For, had it
not been for that I should never have learned, as I
have to-day, from you two ladies, what a very interesting and agreeable fellow I am !" and he
bowed profoundly, with a twinkle of merriment in
his eyes.
" Over the wire," Nattie added, pointedly.
"Of course, over the wire!" he said, with another bow. " But it shall be my endeavor to make
good my reputation, minus the wire !"
" You will have to work very hard to place Mr.
Stanwood where ' C ' was in our good graces !" said
Cyn, archly.
" Then suppose we drop the Mr. Stanwood, and
take up Clem, who already was somewhat advanced !" he said, adroitly.

The Broken Circuit Re-united.

157

" A h ! Clem sounds more natural, doesn't it,
Nat?" questioned Cyn laughing; "we know Clem
and ' C,' but Mr. Stanwood is a stranger !"
" Then let us drop him by all means ! and now
say you are glad to see your old friend !" said Clem,
gayly.
" We are transported with delight at beholding
our Clem, so lately given up as lost forever!" Cyn
replied with equal gayety ; and Clem, then looking
at Nattie, as if he expected her to say something
also, she murmured,
" I am very glad to meet ' C , ' " a remark that
sounded cold beside that of enthusiastic Cyn. But
in fact Nattie was so confused, so happy, and so
strangely timid, that she longed to get away by herself and think it all over and quietly realize i t ; and
besides, in her secret heart, Nattie felt a growing
conviction that Cyn used the plural pronoun we
more than previous circumstances actually warranted.
"But Nat," said Cyn, all unconscious of her
friend's jealous criticism, "you have not yet told
me how you found him out ?"
" He telegraphed to me with a pencil on the
table, and coolly informed me that he was ' C,'"
Nattie explained.
" And then you jumped up and threw us uniniti-

158

The Broken Circuit

Re-united.

ated ones into a great state of alarm," said Cyn ;
"and instead of practicing for a drum corps, as I
supposed, you were talking secretly, you sly
creatures !" then turning to Clem, she asked,
laughing, " what did you think when Nat dropped you so suddenly and completely ?"
" What could I think, except that it was a caprice
of hers," he answered, laughing. " At first I thought
she was vexed at my having gone to B a, but she
denied that, and finally I believe I became angry
myself, and concluded to let her have her own way.
Nevertheless, I could not resist calling to see her,
when I came to the city, and had I met with any
encouragement, I should probably have declared
myself, but I was annihilated without ceremony."
"You would not have been, perhaps, had you
been honest in the first place, instead of asking unnecessary questions about tariffs," replied Nattie.
" Yes, but you were to recognize me by intuition
you know, and I wanted to give you a chance,"
responded Clem, quickly. *
Nattie looked a trifle abashed.
" But I am quite sure I should have suspected
it was you, had I not'given you up as hopelessly
red-headed," she persisted ; " why, almost the very
first question the creature asked was, ' do you see
that twinkle ?'"

The Broken Circuit Re-united.

159

" So he heard and treasured that remark to some
purpose/'he said; "well, I will not dispute your
intuition theory, since your last words assure me
that I do not fall so far short of your imaginary ' C,'
as did my personator. I imagine your expression of
countenance, on learning the intelligence, was
hardly flattering to his vanity."
Nattie, who had colored at the first of his remark, replied contemptuously,
" His self-conceit was too great to attribute my
very uncordial reception to anything except, as he
said, 'my bashfulness/ I presume it has afforded
him great enjoyment to think how successfully he
stepped into your shoes, and what a joke he had
played upon me."
"Upon us, you mean," corrected Clem.
"Certainly; upon us" Nattie replied, with
another flush of color.
" I remember how indifferent he seemed when I hinted that now we
had met the chief pleasure of talking on the wire
was gone. And I believe he didn't actually say in
so many words that he was ' C/ but left me to understand it so."
" A n d I am indebted to him for being such a
lonesome, miserable fellow the latter part of my
telegraphic career," said Clem, rather savagely.
Nattie murmured something about the time pass-

160

The Broken Circuit

Re-united,

ing pleasanter when there was some one to talk with,
and Cyn asked, curiously,
" Then you have left the dot and dash business,
have you ?"
" Oh, yes. It was merely temporary with me,"
Clem replied; then seating himself on the sofa
beside Nattie, and drawing a chair up for Cyn, between himself and Jo—Quimby being at the other
end of the room, a prey to his emotions—Clem continued ;
" The truth of the matter is simply this, my
father, with a pig-headedness worthy of Eugene
Wrayburn's M. R. F. in i Our Mutual Friend,' determined to make a doctor of me, not on account of
any qualifications of mine, but for the simple reason
that a doctor is a good thing to have in a family.
But I, having an intense dislike to the smell of
drugs, a repugnance to knowing anything more
than absolutely necessary about the Mils that flesh is
heir to,' and decided objections to having the sleep
of my future life disturbed, declined, and at the
same time expressed a desire to go into the store
with him, and become a merchant. Upon which my
most immediate ancestor waxed wroth, called me,
in plain, unvarnished words, a fool; and a pretty
one I was to set myself up against his will! I, who
couldn't earn my salt without him to back me !

The Broken Circuit Re-united>

161

Being of a contrary opinion myself, I determined to
test my abilities in the salt line. I began," looking
at Nattie, merrily, "by salting you !"—then explaining to Cyn, Jo, and the silent Quimby, " ' Salt' is a
term operators use, when one tries to send faster
than the other can receive. I began my acquaintance with N by trying to ' salt' her. To go on
with my narrative, I had learned to telegraph at
college, where the boys had private wires from
room to room, and being acquainted with one of
the managers in our city, succeeded in obtaining
that very undesirable office down there at X n,
where I remained until my stern parent relented,
concluded to hire a doctor instead of making
one, and offered me the control of a branch of the
firm here in your city. And here I am !"
"And isn't it strange how you should have
stumbled upon us, feast and all ?" said Cyn,
laughing.
Nattie was again disturbed by the plural pronoun, and also angry at herself for observing it.
" Isn't it ?" Clem answered merrily ; " what a
lucky fellow I am ! You see, not being at all
acquainted in the city, I hunted up my old college
friend Quimby, who asked me to call on some lady
friends of his, mentioning no names, which of
course I was only too glad to do ! Imagine my sur11

162

The Broken Circuit

Re-united.

prise and delight when I discovered who those
friends were! Bat I don't know as I should have
dared to reveal myself, having been so often
snubbed,"—with a roguish glance at Nattie—" if
that story had not been told and the mystery
solved. Imagine my dismay, though, at being
called an ' odious creature,' and the surprise with
which I listened to my own description ! So
earnest were you, that I actually, for a moment,
thought my hair must have turned red!" and he ran
his fingers through his curly locks with a rueful
face.
The girls laughed, and Cyn exclaimed,
" What a pity it is you tore up that picture,
Nat !"
"Yes," acquiesced Nattie,adding, in explanation,
to Clem—" You remember that pen and ink sketch ?
My first act of vengeance was to destroy it!"
"Never mind, Jo will do another,will you not?"
asked Clem, turning to that gentleman, who, upon
being thus appealed to, arose, laid down the nutcracker he held, and said with the utmost solemnity,
" J o is ready to draw anything. But Jo is
aghast and horrified at being mixed even in the
slightest degree with anything so near approaching the romantic, as the affair in question. What

The Broken Circuit Re-united,

163

is the use of a fellow shaving off his hair, I would
like to know, if such things as these will happen ?"
"It is no use fighting against Nature !" laughed
Cyn. " Romance always has been since the world
was, and always will be, I suppose. Your turn will
come, Jo ! I have no doubt we shall see you a longhaired, cadaverous, sentimental artist yet !"
" Never !" cried Jo heroically. " But you must
confess that this affair is taking undue advantage
of a fellow. A wired romance is something entirely unexpected !"
" And besides, viewed telegraphically, there is
nothing at all romantic in the whole affair !" said
Nattie, who, between her confusion at the turn the
conversation had taken, and her alarm lest something should be said about that chubby Cupid—
whom it will be remembered she had suppressed in
her former description to " C "—was decidedly embarrassed.
Before Jo could express his satisfaction at this
statement, Clem exclaimed, reproachfully,
" Oh ! do not say that ! not even to spare our
friend's feelings can I deny the romance of our
acquaintance."
" I quite agree with you," said Cyn; " I really
believe Nat is going over to Jo's ideas. Never

l64

The Broken Circuit Re-United.

mind ! just wait until your turn comes, you unsentimental J o / '
" Madam !" cried Jo, "when I find myself in the
condition you describe, I will come and place the
disposal of myself in your hands !" and he made her
a profound bow.
There is many a true word spoken in jest, and
none of the little party there assembled imagined
how true, indeed, these words were to prove, as
Cyn gayly answered,
" It is a bargain, Jo, and I shall have no mercy on
you, I can assure you."
" And we must not forget that we are indebted to
Quimby for the unraveling of all this mystery,"
said Nattie. She smiled on him where he sat, in his
dismayed isolation, as she spoke, and although it
was the warmest smile she had ever yet bestowed
upon him, he was rendered no happier by its
warmth."
" Yes, how fortunate it was, Clem, that you
looked him up !" said Cyn.
Nattie wondered that she could pronounce the
familiar name so easily. She was quite sure she
herself could not.
" Was it not ?" exclaimed Clem, delightedly;
"and what is better than all, I am coming here to
room with him !" At this Jo shook him cordially

The Broken Circuit Re-united.

165

by the hand, Cyn and Nattie gave exclamations of
pleasure, and Quimby suddenly started into life.
" I—I beg pardon," he said, hastily, " but I—I really
—I though you said you had rather be farther down
town, you know."
"Yes, that was my first inclination, but as you
urged me so much, and as I find so many old friends
here, I have concluded to accept your offer, my boy,
so consider the matter settled," replied Clem.
And in his own entire satisfaction and unconsciousness, Clem did not observe but what Quimby
looked as happy as might be expected, at this intelligence.
" 'Oh, won't we have a jolly time,'" sang Cyn,
and Clem, Nattie and Jo—but not Quimby—took
up the chorus.
And obtuse as he was, Quimby could not but
observe that Nattie's eyes were shining in a way he
had never seen them shine before, that the evercoming and going flush on her cheeks was very
becoming, and that there was an expression in her
face, when she looked at Clem, that face had never
held for him. Nor could he fail to think, that the
romantic commencement of the acquaintance of
these two, even the episode of the musk-scented
impostor, all now enhanced the interest Nattie had
once felt for the invisible " C ;" neither did he need a

166

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

prophet to tell him that the two girls would sit up
half the night, talking confidentially over this unexpected and happy denouement, or even that Nattie's
sleep would not be quite as sound as usual.
Love, it is said, is blind. So, to some things,
perhaps, it is, but never to a rival.
And when at last Clem tore himself away, with
the remark,
" What a fortunate day this has been ! Quimby,
my dear boy, how can I thank you ? I shall take
possession of my half of your apartment at once, to
be sure no one shall again usurp my place ; until
then, au revoir /" and, in parting, perceptibly held
Nattie's hand longer than was absolutely necessary,
Quimby followed him with dejected mien, fully
aware that of all the mistakes he had ever made he
committed the worst, when he asked his old chum
to call on some lady friends of his !

C H A P T E R XL
MISS KLING

TELEGRAPHICALLY

ISS BETSY K L I N G
her mind about this
the Torpedo refused
light of that other self, and

BAFFLED.

was quite uneasy in
time, not only because
to see himself in the
fled whenever he saw

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

167

her approaching, but also because some subtle instinct told her, that under her very nose, was going
on something of which the details were unknown to
her, and that listen as she would, could not be ascertained. This good-looking young man, who had
so suddenly appeared on Mrs. Simonson's premises,
who and what was he? From Mrs. Simonson she
learned that he was an old friend of Quimby's ;
that she believed he was also an old friend of
Miss Archer's, or Miss Rogers', or of both, and
that his father was very wealthy,
"Humph !" said Miss Kling, with a suspicious
sniffle. " Strange that he should room with Quimby
if his father is so wealthy ? Why does he not have
a room of his own ?"
" He and Quimby are such friends, you see !"
Mrs. Simonson explained.
Miss Kling gave another sniffle, this time of
contempt, at such a reason being possible.
" Miss Rogers is in here about all her time when
she isn't at the office, is she not ?" was the next
question.
" She is very intimate with Miss Archer," Mrs.
Simonson replied.
" And I suppose he and that Quimby are in
there with them every evening, are they not ?" pursued Miss Kling.

168

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

They called quite often, Mrs. Simonson acknowledged, as did Mr. Norton, and Miss Fishblate.
"They seem to have good times, too," added
kindly Mrs. Simonson. "Young folks will be
young folks, you know. And why not ? Bless
you! we never can enjoy ourselves again as we do
when young. There are too many cares and worries
when we get to our age."
Miss Kling rose stiffly; this allusion to " our
a g e " disgusted and offended her beyond pardon,
and she flew into a spasm of sneezing.
"Well, I, for one, do not think such conduct is
proper," she said, as soon as possible. " I was
brought up to understand that young ladies should
never receive the visits of gentlemen except in the
presence of older people !"
Mrs. Simonson only laughed a little forced
laugh she had when she did not know exactly what
to say. For her own part, although not willing to
offend Miss Kling by saying so, she was glad to see
her lodgers enjoying themselves; more than glad
to have Clem there, as on his arrival she had
promptly tacked an extra dollar on the room rent,
under the plea that the wear and tear on furniture
was greater with two in a room.
Miss Kling, fearing, perhaps, another reference
to " our age," left her, and next attacked Celeste

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

169

Fishblate, having long ago discovered Nattie to be
impregnable to the process known as *" pumping,"
a fact that had augmented her ever-increasing dislike towards her lodger.
From Celeste, she learned that they had " such
nice times !" that Mr. Stanwood was "so splendid !"
and that " Miss Archer wTas just dead in love with
him, and he with her !"
"Humph !" thought Miss Kling with a sneeze.
" It's that Miss Archer then, is it ?" Her next move
was to arrest poor Quimby in the hall, intending
to put him through a series of interrogations
regarding the antecedents of his friend, and the
length of his acquaintance with Miss Archer. But
in this she was baffled, for at the first question,
Quimby exclaimed,
" I—I don't know ! Don't ask me !" and fled.
Miss Kling, much to her dissatisfaction, was
therefore compelled to make the little she had
gathered go as far as it would, for the present.
But she lived in hopes.
It was perhaps not wonderful, that Miss Kling,
sitting lonely by her fireside, and pining for her
Other self, should feel envious because her lodger,
whom she took ostensibly for company, was enjoying herself over the way evening after evening, and

170

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

telling her absolutely nothing about it, but confining their intercourse to the necessary civilities.
Undoubtedly the few weeks that had passed
since Clem's appearance on the scene ought to have
been the happiest in Nattie's hitherto lonely life,
happier even than those in which she talked to the
then unseen " C," and speculated about him with
Cyn. But yet—she 'sometimes felt that a certain
something that had been on the wire was lacking
now ; that Clem, while realizing all her old expectations of " C," was not exactly what " C " had
been to her. One reason of this she knew was her
own inability to conquer a sort of timidity she
felt in his presence, a timidity from which Cyn was
certainly free. Well aware that beside the gay and
brilliant Cyn she was nowhere, Nattie had a sensitive fear that he might be disappointed in her.
But she did not yet know that the foundation of
all these uneasy misgivings of hers was a selfish
emotion, the same that had prompted that jealous
pang at Cyn's " w e " the day he first discovered
himself, and this was, that on the wire " C " had
been all hers, but in Clem, Cyn seemed to have the
largest share.
Twice he had called on Nattie at the office, but
neither time could stop, and as it happened on each
occasion, she was in the midst of a rush of business,

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

171

that left no chance for conversation. But one rainy
Saturday afternoon, when a general dullness- prevailed, and she was fervently wishing the hands of
the clock might move on faster towards six, Clem,
holding a very wet umbrella, and with water dripping from his curly locks, presented himself. If he
was not, he certainly ought to have been flattered
by the blush with which Nattie involuntarily welcomed him.
" D i d you rain down?" she hastily exclaimed,
hoping by this trite commonplace to distract attention from the blush, of which she was conscious.
" It appears like it, doesn't it ?" he answered
merrily, giving himself a little shake, and placing
his wet umbrella and hat in a corner. " It was
so dull at the store, I thought I would run around
to the scene of former exploits. Do you not sometimes wish I was back at X n to keep you company
such days as these ?"
Without thinking twice before she spoke once,
Nattie answered candidly, as she placed a chair for
her visitor,
"Yes, I believe I do, often."
" I do not know whether to take that as a compliment or otherwise," Clem said, looking at her as
if half vexed.
Nattie glanced up inquiringly.

172

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

" It certainly is a compliment to nry abilities for
making myself agreeable at a distance. But—" said
Clem, with a shrug of his shoulders, " a poor
fellow does not like to feel as if the farther away he
is, the better he is liked !"
" Oh ! I did not mean it that way at all !" ex-r
claimed Nattie, in hasty explanation. " Only, you
know, I had more of your company on the wire !"
Clem looked pleased.
" If that is the trouble
" he began, but Nattie
interrupted, her face very red.
" I did not mean that, either; I meant it was in
such a different way, you know—and I—I could
talk more easily, and—I do not believe I know what
I do mean !" stopping short in embarrassment.
Clem looked at her and smiled.
" Let us see if it is any easier talking on the
wire," he said ; and taking the key, he wrote,
" Good P m, will you please tell me truly, and
relieve my mind, if you like me as well as you
thought you would ?"
Taking the key he relinquished, and without
looking at him, she replied, " Yes; and suppose I
ask you the same question, what would you say,
politeness aside ?"
" I should answer/' wrote Clem, his eyes on the

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled,

175

sounder, "that I have found the very little girl I
expected !"
And then their eyes met, and Nattie hastily rose
and walked to the window, for no ostensible purpose, and Clem said, going after her,
" It is nicer talking on the wire, isn't it ?"
Nattie was saved the necessity of replying by
some one down the line who just then inquired,
" Who was that talking soft nonsense just now ?
We don't allow that sort of thing here !"
" How impertinent !" exclaimed Nattie.
" Possibly our red-headed friend is somewhere
about," Clem said ; then taking the key, responded
to the unknown questioner,
" Don't trouble yourself; I shall not talk soft
nonsense to you !"
"That sounds like ' C ' s ' writing ! Is it ?" was
asked quickly.
" My style must be very peculiar to be so readily
detected," Clem said to Nattie, laughingly; then replied on the wire," If you will sign I will tell you."
" Em."
" A h !" said Clem, and immediately acknowledged himself. Then followed a short chat with
"Em," in which she endeavored to make him confess what office he was then sending from, which he
persistently refused to do.

174

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

Having bade " E m " good-by, and closed the key,
he said to Nattie, verbally, " We ought to have a
private wire of our own, since a wire is so necessary
to our happiness! I see," glancing around the
office, "that you have an extra key and sounder
here."
" Y e s ; " Nattie replied, "we had at one time a
railroad wire, and when it was taken out, the
instruments were left, and have been here ever
since."
"Do you suppose you could take them home—to
practice on, say?" queried Clem, a sparkle in his
brown eyes.
" Doubtless, if I asked permission, they would
allow me that privilege; why ?" asked Nattie,
curiously.
" I have a brilliant idea!" replied Clem, gayly.
"But do not be alarmed, I am used to it, as Quimby
would say; it is this. I myself have a key and
sounder, relics of college days, beauties, too, and
if you can take home those over there, we will have
telegraphic communication from your room to ours,
immediately. The wire and battery I will fix all
right, and when Cyn is out, and you can't come
over, and at odd times, we will have some of our old
chats."
"But," said Nattie, hesitatingly, although evi-

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled,

175

dently delighted with the idea, " Miss Kling will
never
"
"Hang Miss Kling!" interrupted Clem, emphatically ; " excuse the expression, but she deserves
it ; she never need know. I will undertake to arrange everything, and keep the secret from her. To
account for the instruments in your room, tell her
you are going to practice at home, and have a pupil.
Cyn, I know, will be delighted to amuse herself by
learning."
" I should like it very much," acknowledged
Nattie, "but
"
" I allow no buts," Clem interrupted with gay
decision ; " you get the instruments, tell me the
first time Miss Kling goes out to spend the day, and
leave the rest to me."
Nattie needed little urging, being only too willing
to have some more of those old confidential chats
with " C,"—which nobody could share—and the required promise was given.
Strange it is, how circumstances alter cases.
Coming to the office that morning, Nattie had found
it disagreeable and hard enough to buffet the storm,
and had growled at herself all the way, because she
was not smart enough to get on in the world, even
so far as to be able to stay at home in such weather.
For storms of nature, like storms of life, are hardest

176

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

to a woman, trammeled as she is in the one by long
skirts, that will drag in the mud, and clothes that
every gust of wind catches, and in the other by
prejudices and impediments of every kind, that the
world, in consideration, doubtless, for her so-called
" weakness," throws in her way. But now, on her
way home, Nattie minded not the wind, and rather
enjoyed the rain ; it may be that this total change in
her sentiments was due to the fact that Clem held
the umbrella.
Miss Kling saw them come into the hotel together, wet and merry, and scowled. Perhaps in
former days she had gone home under an umbrella
with somebody—a possible other self—and so knew
all about the enjoyability of the experience. But
Nattie did not even notice her landlady's acrimonious glance, and sang a gay song as she changed
her bedrabbled dress.
Cyn, who was of course immediately informed
about the projected private wire, was delighted
with the idea, and began studying the Morse alphabet at once.
" And the best of all is that we are going to get
the better of that argus-eyed Dragon !" said Cyn,
" 7 / w e can !" Nattie replied with emphasis.
" Oh ! but Clem is sure of that part!" Cyn said
with great confidence.

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

177

But Nattie shook her head dubiously.
" She is so inquisitive !" she remarked.
" Yes, and the most despicable character on earth
to me, is a person whose chief object in life is
gossip ! why, life is too short to take care of our
own affairs in ! I wish you would leave her, and
come and room with me !" exclaimed Cyn indignantly.
" Mrs. Simonson would not dare have me. She
is afraid of Miss Kling, you know. But I wish I
might, for I am tired of being here," Nattie replied
discontentedly.
" Well, we will have our wire at all events, and
for once something shall be that Miss Kling will
not know," said Cyn exultantly.
Unconsciously the dreaded individual favored
them, shortly after, by going to spend the evening
with friends after her own heart—very genteel, but
in reduced circumstances—and as the instruments
were all rendy, and they had only been waiting for
her absence, Clem went to work. He was assisted
by the willing Jo, who argued that running a wire
was solid work, and not romantic, and by Quimby,
who viewed the arrangement as another formidable
link in the chain of his rival, and clamored wildly
for a " telephone," because "anybody could use a
telephone." But that, as Clem said, was exactly
12

178

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

what they did not want ! Consequently, Quimby, as
he lent his aid, felt himself a very martyr. However, he was, by this time, "used to it, you know,"
—as he would have said—having viewed himself in
that light since his unwitting resurrection of " C."
Still, he sometimes fancied he saw a dim light
shining ahead through the gloom—a hope that
Clem might be fascinated by Cyn. Many were,
Quimby argued, so why should not Clem be ? and
certainly he talked with her more than he did with
Nattie !
In Nattie's room, they placed the instruments on
a small shelf put up for the purpose, just outside
her closet, and run the wire through the closet into
the hall outside, and thence along, so close to the
wall that it was not noticeable, except to those who
knew, and then into Mrs. Simonson's apartments.
Here, no concealment was necessary, as Mrs.
Simonson had been informed of the plan, and,
although trembling lest the vials of Miss Kling's
wrath would be poured on her head, should that
lady discover the arrangement, had no objections to
offer, if they were positive "the electricity on the
wire would not wear out the carpet, or injure the
table "—which was the terminus in Quimby and
Clem's room.
Having satisfied her on this point, they deemed it

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

179

expedient not to show her the battery in their closet,
fearing alarm lest it might eat through the room
and overpower her.
"And now," said Clem, gayly, when all was
finished, and fortunately without attracting attention, not even Celeste being in the secret; " now,
Quimby, we can dispense with that alarm clock we
were intending to buy."
"I—I beg pardon, but I—I don't quite catch
your meaning," the martyr replied, in evident
surprise.
" Why, Nat is to be our alarm clock !" explained
Clem, laughing. " She is, from necessity, an early
riser, and I shall depend on her to call on our wire
at precisely six thirty every morning, and continue
calling until I answer."
" I certainly will," Nattie replied. " But I will
venture to predict that both you and Quimby will
privately call me all sorts of names for doing it. It
makes people so very cross to be aroused from a
morning nap, you know !"
" It doesn't make me cross, I—I assure you ; it—
it will be a pleasure !" quickly exclaimed Quimby,
who was delighted with this idea of the alarm clock.
" I will report him if he shows the least symptom of growling, after that assertion !" Clem said to
Nattie, somewhat to Quimby's internal agitation,

180

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled,

for, to tell-the truth, he was not really quite certain
of being in a state of rapture at six thirty every
morning, even when awoke by the clatter of a
sounder, of which the motive power was his innamorata.
" And now, to christen our wire !" Nattie, who
was in high spirits, said gayly, and she ran over to
her room, and a half hour's chat with " C " followed
before she went to bed. For a week after, however,
she lived, as it were, on thorns, and came home
every night half expecting an explosion.
None came, however. Miss Kling's eyes were
not as good as they once had been, what with their
long service watching for that other self, and overlooking her neighbors; the hall was dark; she
had no duplicate key to Nattie's always-locked
room ; and the small wire, nestling close to the wall,
was undiscovered ; of course, she heard the clatter
of the sounder, but this Nattie explained on the
score of " practice." *
" Well, I am sure !" said Miss Kling, snappishly,
" I should think you would get 'practice' enough at
the office, without sitting up nights to do it!"
At which Nattie turned away to hide a blush,
aware that " C " and she sometimes talked even into
the small hours, in their zeal, doubtless, that the
new wire should not rust out for lack of using.

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled.

18 £

But this telegraphic arrangement came hardest
on poor Quimby, who, between his jealousy when
the two were communicating, his inability to understand what was being said, and the impossibility of
sleeping with such a clatter in the room, lost his
appetite, and invoked anything but blessings on the
head of "that Morse man," who had made such
things possible.
Cyn had no intention of being left out in the
cold, and making Jo join her, began the study of
telegraphy, and the two hammered away incessantly.
It began to be observable, about this time, that Jo
was very willing to be led about by the nose by Cyn.
Why, was not so apparent; perhaps because there
was no romance in it.
Cyn learned the quicker of the two, and she was
soon able, slowly and uncertainly, to " call " Nattie,
ask her to come over, or impart any little information, but was always driven frantic by the attempt to
make out Nattie's reply, however slowly written.
Cyn tried to induce Quimby to overcome the horrors
of those little black marks, the alphabet and their
sounds, but he recoiled from the effort as hopeless.
However, whenever they made candy, as they
often did, he had an opportunity of distinguishing
himself, that he did not fail to improve. On the
first occasion, so uneasy was he about a quiet con-

182

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffiea.

versation Clem and Nattie were having, that he
absently put the mass of candy he had been pulling,
into his pocket to cool. It did cool, but he sold the
coat afterwards, to a boy at the office.
Next time, he forgot to grease his hands, and
stuck himself so together, that they had the utmost
difficulty in getting him apart, but, as he said,
" It's no matter, I—I am used to it, you know !"
He capped the climax, however, by accidentally
dropping a large handful, warm, on top of Celeste's
head, aggravating the offense by telling her to " go
quick and soak her head ;" which, although it was
what she eventually did, was too much like a certain
slang phrase much in vogue, for human nature to
endure ; and giving him an angry look, the only one
on record ever given by her to a man, she rushed from
the room, and was seen no more that evening.
After this exploit, whenever molasses candy was
on the programme, they made a rule that Quimby
should sit in the corner, on the old familiar stool, and
not move until all was over—a rule to which he
submitted meekly.
But he was not happy. In truth, all his joys
in these days were mixed with alloy, between the
pointed monopoly of Celeste—who, of late, and
since she had given up every one else as hopeless,

Miss

Kling

Telegraphically

Baffled.

183

had devoted herself entirely to him—and his secret
jealousy of Clem.
Strangely enough, with the exception of Cyn, n o
one was aware of the exact state of his mind.

Clem

was as unconscious of it as a child, for any peculiarity in his behavior was laid to his well-known
idiosyncrasies; Celeste suspected he was in love,
but was blindly determined to believe she was the
chief attraction in his eyes.

Nattie, if she t h o u g h t

about it at all, imagined he was entirely cured of
that former " foolishness," as she termed his one
attempt to p u t his devotion into words.

A n d as for

Jo, being so opposed to a n y t h i n g of a sentimental
nature himself, naturally he was u n w i l l i n g to observe any indications of the kind in another, and
any g l a r i n g revelations that forced themselves on
his notice, he, in common with Clem, decided was
" o n l y Q u i m b y ' s way."
Oh, no ! J o

could not see n o t h i n g but plain

u n r o m a n t i c facts.

It was no sentiment, or

any-

t h i n g of the sort on Jo's part, of course, that made
him reproduce the handsome, brilliant face of Cyn,
in so many of his recent pictures.

Oh, no ! she was

a good " s t u d y , " that was all ! N o r that caused him
to seek her society in preference to all others, to
listen entranced when she sang, and to be exceedingly annoyed—a rare t h i n g once for good-humored

184

Miss Kling Telegraphically Baffled,

Jo—when Clem was given more than his share of her
attention. Again oh, no ! Cyn was a fellow Bohemian, a congenial spirit, that was all. Neither in
the least sentimental or jealous was Jo !
But for all that, and for some unexplained
reason, he was not quite so even in his spirits as he
was wont to be, sometimes being very happy, and
then terribly depressed. Did he eat too much, or
too little, which ? For if it was not the first commencement of a first love—and of course it was
not—it must have been his digestion that ailed
him !
Had Miss Betsey Kling known of these little
uneasy undercurrents amidst the gayety that so
annoyed her, the knowledge would doubtless have
given her much satisfaction, besides, possibly, the
inkling she could not now obtain of what was
"going on." It was a source of great distress to
her that she could not ascertain whether it was Cyn
or Nattie with whom Clem was " flirting." For she
was positive he was trifling with the affections of
one or the other, and that matters would end in
some kind of a horrible scandal. But for all her
listening and prying around, she could not seem to
gain much information, except that everybody but
herself—and perhaps the old gentleman Fishblate—
was having a good time. Nor could she get hold of

Crosses on the Line,

185

anything " dreadful/' which was the greatest disappointment of all.
One night, however, listening at her own door as
Nattie bade Cyn " good night," over the way, Miss
Kling heard Clem call out from within, something
that made her very hair stand on end. It was this :
" Please wake me up earlier than usual to-morrow
morning, will you, Nattie ?"
" Wake him up, indeed !" thought the outraged
but happy Miss Kling, as she wended her way back
to her own room. " Pretty goings on ! and I know I
heard that machine clatter when she was not in, one
day J Machines do not clatter without a human agency
somewhere ! There is something wrong here! and I
will find it out, or my name is not Betsey Kling !
' Wake him up,' indeed !"
«•»

C H A P T E R XII.
CROSSES ON THE LINE.

T happened that not long after Cyn sang at
a concert given in one of the principal halls
of the city. Of course, a party from the Hotel
Norman attended. This party consisted not only

186

Crosses on the Line,

of all the young people, but also included Mrs.
Simonson.
Cyn made a great success, and was encored every
time she sang. Never had Nattie so fully realized
the beauty and brilliancy of her friend, as she did
upon that evening. Nor could she fail to observe
that Clem, too, was startled into a new admiration.
Was it because of this that a seriousness, quite
foreign to the gay scene, fell over Nattie's face ?
As for Celeste, she was decidedly envious, and
had there been no gentlemen in the party, would
have turned exceedingly glum. As it was, she, with
some difficulty, called up her usual smiles, and contented herself with whispering spitefully to Quimby,
" H o w can she appear before the public so? it
seems so unwomanly !"
" Charming, indeed !" replied Quimby, without
the slightest idea of what she had said, as his attention was concentrated on Cyn, and his brain incapable of entertaining two ideas at once.
But while acknowledging her attractions, Quimby
preserved his composure, arguing to himself in a
common sense way,
" What is the use of a fellow falling in love with
a girl that every other fellow is sure to fall in love
with too, you know ?"
Mrs. Simonson, good soul, quite swelled with

Crosses on the Line.

187

pride in her lodger, and by her behavior created the
impression in the minds of people sitting near, that
she was the singer's mother.
A n d Jo—unsentimental Jo—was entirely carried
away.

With t h e music, of course, for music was

art, and art, only in another branch, was his life
and work ; and was not Cyn a beautiful work of
N a t u r e , the mother of all art?
" H e will be a very lucky man who shall call o u r
Cyn his," whispered Clem to Jo, as she came out in
answer to an encore.
" W h a t ! " ejaculated Jo, so savagely that every
one turned to look at him, and Clem opened his
eyes wide with surprise.

" Bah !

Nonsense !"

And some way or other, after this, the music
sounded very dismal to Jo, and the close air of the
room made his head ache ; b u t he had been w o r k i n g
very hard all day, and was tired, so this was quite
natural.
W a s Clem p r e s u m i n g on his g o o d looks, and
t h i n k i n g of m a k i n g • Cyn his, he wondered ? If he
was, she certainly w o u l d not be fool enough t o — J o
stopped here in his meditations, because he would
like to have been a little surer that she would not.
Very strongly he felt just then that " t h i n g s of a
doubtful nature were sometimes very uncertain !"
It was, of

course, no sentiment on his

part

i88

Crosses 071 the Line,

that caused these emotions. He did not wish Cyn
to throw herself away in matrimony, that was all ;
and so strong were his feelings on this point that he
could not banish the idea from his mind all the rest
of the evening, and was noticeably thoughtful.
But he was very gay ; even unusually, wildly gay
on the way home, and kept Mrs. Simonson, whom he
escorted, in such a state of laughter that she burst
three buttons, and was all " wheezed up " when they
reached the hotel.
" Why are you so thoughtful to-night ?" Clem
asked Nattie, as they walked down their street
behind the rest, in the wake of Jo's gayety and
Celeste's meaningless giggle. Celeste was clinging
to the arm of the unwilling, but helpless Quimby,
and chatting of the handsome tenor.
With a slight start, Nattie replied to Clem's
question,
" I do not know. Am I ?"
" Yes; you have hardly spoken a word all the
way. Is anything the trouble ?" asked Clem, and
she, looking moodily on the ground, did not see the
anxiety in his eyes as he spoke.
" Nothing !" she replied; then startled him by
bursting out passionately,
" I am tired of living with no object; with nothing but a daily routine. Can it be there is no

Crosses on the Line.

189

better place in the world for me ? That my life
must be always thus ? I cannot be contented !"
Clem stopped short and stared at her agitated
face.
" I never knew you were not happy, Nattie," he
said, gently.
" O h ! I am not unhappy ; I am only discontented," Nattie replied.
"You are somewhat contradictory in your statements," said Clem, as they went on again, for she
also had stopped. " I s it office troubles that annoy
you ? Poor little girl, it is a monotonous life !"
Nattie flushed at the tenderness in his voice.
" That is one thing," she replied, a little tremblingly, " but I want something to work for, as Cyn
has. I am ambitious ; my present position can never
content me ; I am haunted all the time by an uneasy
consciousness that if I was smart I should be doing
something to get ahead ; and yet, I don't know what
to do !"
" I remember you once said something about
becoming a writer; why not try that ?" suggested
Clem.
They had reached their own landing at the hotel,
and paused. The remainder of the party had disappeared,

190

Crosses on the Line.

"It seems so hopeless," Nattie answered, dispiritedly ; "there is no opening anywhere."
" But it will never do to wait for that, you know.
If the world is a closed oyster, we must open it.
Isn't that the way Cyn did ?" said Clem, half surmising the realization of the difference between
Cyn's brilliant success and her own plodding along
that had caused her dejection ; and as he spoke, he
took her hand in his, but Nattie snatched it quickly
away.
"Ah ! Cyn!" she said in sudden and uncontrollable jealousy, " of course you could never expect me
to compare with her!"
Clem looked at her a moment, then some
emotion flushed his face, and he would have spoken
had not Miss Kling, disgusted with her inability to
catch a word from inside, opened her door, saying
sharply,
"Are you coming in, Miss Rogers?"
" Certainly," Nattie replied quickly, and already
ashamed of her jealous outburst. " Good night,
Clem."
" But will you not come over and congratulate
Cyn on her success ?" he asked, detaining her. " I
heard a carriage just stop, and think she is in it."
" N o t to-night; to-morrow," said Nattie, hastily,
and left him before he could again urge the request.

Crosses on the Line,

191

" Oh !" said Miss Kling, as Nattie closed the
door behind her, "was that Mr. Stanwood who came
home with you?"
"Yes ;" Nattie answered, briefly.
" I should hardly have thought Miss Archer
would have .allowed it!" remarked Miss Kling,
with a sneeze.
" I don't know why she should have forbidden
it!" replied Nattie, coldly, yet looking somewhat
startled. Poor Nattie's nerves were decidedly unstrung to-night.
"You do not mean to say that you are ignorant of what every one else knows ?" queried Miss
Kling, with a malicious sparkle in her eyes ;
"that they are just the same as engaged."
Nattie turned a very pale face towards her.
" I—T think you are mistaken," she faltered.
" Mistaken ! no indeed !" said Miss Kling, positively ; " I should think your own eyes might tell
you that! Why, Mrs. Simonson says, Miss Archer
has thought of nobody but him since he came into
the house, and that anybody can tell he is in love
with her, from his actions and the attentions he pays
her, and Celeste told me the same thing, long ago.
But I suppose Miss Archer is willing he should
come home with you. She isn't, of course, jealous
of youT

192

Crosses on the Line.

There was a sneering emphasis in Miss Kling's
last words, that made them anything but complimentary, as Nattie felt; but saying only, in a voice
she vainly tried to steady,
" You may be right," she went into her own room,
and locked the door behind her.
She knew now ! knew what that first romantic
acquaintance, that dejection at the companionship
lost in the obnoxious red-head, that joy when " C "
was restored to her in Clem, that unsatisfied desire
to have him back on the wire, all to herself ; that
suppressed jealousy of Cyn, led to—and what it all
meant; that she loved him ! and he, did he, as they
said, love Cyn ? alas ! who could help loving bright,
beautiful Cyn ? To attract him to herself was only
the romance of their first acquaintance—and even
this Cyn slightly shared ; it was not Cyn's fault.
Nattie could not be guilty of the petty meanness of
disliking her friend because she possessed attractions superior to her own. But if he loved Cyn,
then, indeed, had the curtain fallen on the sad ending of her romance ; the lights were out, and all
was darkness. If he loved Cyn ? Nattie, with the
first full knowledge of her own feelings, could
hardly hope otherwise, remembering their intimacy,
his marked attention to her, his praise of her, and
her winning beauty and talents. Yes, it must be

Crosses on the Line.
that he loved h e r !

193

Oh, why must Cyn be given

everything, a n d s h e — n o t h i n g ?

W h a t kind of fate

was it that marked out t h e broad, sunny road for
one, and the somber, uneven pathway for a n o t h e r ?
Must her life be one of lonely discontent, a telegraph
office at t h e beginning, a n d a telegraph office at the
end ? was this to be all ?
" N o !" t h o u g h t Nattie, raising h e r head p r o u d ly, and

looking

at

the

red

and

swollen

that gazed at her from the opposite glass.

eyes
" Life

shall give me s o m e t h i n g of its best ; if not of love,
then of f a m e ! a n d I will w o r k a n d persevere u n t i l
I gain it !"
Yet, for all of her resolution, N a t t i e sobbed herself to sleep.

N o t so easy is it to renounce love,

and look forward to a life barren of its best a n d
sweetest gift.
A n d after this there was a c h a n g e in her observable even to the u n d i s c e r n i n g Q u i m b y .

Shadows

had fallen over her face, lurked in her g r a y eyes
and a r o u n d the corners of h e r mouth.
restlessness had given place to a settled

T h e old
gloom.

She was less often seen a m o n g the gay circle t h a t
g a t h e r e d in Cyn's parlor, p l e a d i n g every possible
excuse for staying away, a n d when with them, to
his surprise and delight, and to Celeste's dismay,
she devoted herself to Quimby, to J o — t o a n y o n e
13

194

Crosses on the Line.

rather than to Clem. For most of all had she
changed to him. Afraid of betraying her secret,
and unable to control the pain that overpowered her
when in his presence, now she knew her own heart,
she avoided him in every practicable way, and seldom, even over their wire, talked with him. She
was always " tired," or "busy," when he called her
now.
Clem, surprised and puzzled by this unaccountable change, at first endeavored to overcome her
coolness, but ended by becoming cool in his turn,
and talked and joked with Cyn more than ever.
And if a touch of the shadows on Nattie's face
sometimes crept over his own, she, in her selfengrossment, did not observe it.
If Quimby's hopes burned brighter at this state of
affairs, and he was consequently happier, Jo, for
some reason unexplained, was n o t In fact, he was
decidedly queer ; now gay, now horribly cynical,
not to say morose.
Truly, Cupid, viewed in the character of a telegraphist, was far from being a success ; for he had
switched everybody off on to the wrong wire !
Cyn, gay unconscious Cyn, no more dreamed of
Clem being supposedly in love with her, than she
did that Jo was so filled with thoughts of her, that,
had he been a different kind of a man, one would

Crosses on the Line.

195

have called him desperately in love. But Cyn, unconscious of all this, saw, and with sorrow, the
ever-increasing coldness between Nattie and Clem*
For she had quite set her heart on the romance that
had commenced in dots and dashes culminating in
orange blossoms—a Wired Love. But now, to her
vexation, she saw her anticipations liable to be set at
naught, and herself unable to obtain even a clew to
the trouble. Like the " line man," who goes up
and down to find why the wires will not work, she
could not find the " break " anywhere, and decided
that romances, whether "wired" or taken in the
ordinary way, were certainly very unwieldy things
to manage.
" It seems to me that you do not use that wire
very often now," she said one evening to Clem and
Nattie, the latter of whom she had forcibly dragged
forth from the solitude of her room. " Were it
not for me, it would rust. Why ! I used to hear
your clatter into the small hours, but now
"
" Now we are more sensible," concluded Nattie,
leaning over the piano to look at some music.
" One gets tired of talking in dots and dashes after
a time !"
Poor Nattie's trouble made her bitter sometimes.
" Yes, one wants a person they don't know to

196

Crosses on the Line.

talk with, in order to make it interesting !" added
Clem, not to be outdone.
" Good gracious !" thought Cyn, dismayed at
the result of her probing. " This is really dreadful !" then she exclaimed impulsively,
" I hope you have not quarreled, you two !"
"Oh ! dear no !" replied Nattie quickly, "what
should we quarrel about ?"
But Clem, after looking at her a moment, advanced and held out his hand, saying frankly,
" I believe we have been cross to each other of
late, although how it happened I do not know! So
let us make up and be good !"
Cyn looked up hopefully at this, but Nattie, who
could hardly conceal her agitation, replied coldly,
" I do not see that anything has been the
matter !" and placing a limp hand in his for an
instant, turned away.
Clem bit his lip, then took out his watch, saying,
" I believe I have an engagement down town
this evening. I shall have to leave you now, I
fear, ladies."
Nattie celebrated his departure by bursting into
tears that she vainly tried to hide, and was detected
in this situation on the sofa by Cyn.
Cyn's arms were about her in a moment, and
Cyn's voice said lovingly,

Crosses on the Line,

197

" What is it, dear ? Tell me what is the matter
lately ? Trust me with it. Is it about Clem ?"
With a determination, very brave and unselfish,
but unfortunately entirely uncalled for, not to mar
Cyn's happy love by her sorrow, Nattie checked
the tears, of which she was ashamed, and answered,
" No ! I am very weak and foolish. The idea of
my crying like a school-girl ! I am only unhappy
because—because—I am nobody !"
And this was all the information the sympathetic and perplexed Cyn could obtain.
Sitting that night on a low cricket before the
fire with her dark hair unbound—and it was fortunate for Jo's peace of mind that he could not see
her just then, becauses she was such an interesting
"study!"—Cyn thought it all over, and could not,
as she told herself, make out what it was all about.
" I thought everything was going on so smoothly,"
she mused, " and now here is what Clem himself
would term a cross on the wire ! and no one can
find out where it is ! Doesn't she love him, I wonder ? I should, if I was she ! Does he love her? if he
does not, he is no kind of a hero ! Ah ! I know
what would test the matter ! a crisis ! Now, for
instance, if the house would only get on fire, and
Nat burn up—that is, almost—and Clem save her
just in time—that is the sort of thing that brings

198

The Wrong

Woman.

these heroes to terms in the dramas ! b u t I suppose—
everything is so different in real life—Clem would
not wake u p in time, a n d she would b u r n to a crisp
—or some one else would save her

first—Quimby,

for instance, he is always d o i n g something he o u g h t
n o t ! no, I don't t h i n k it w o u l d do to risk i t ! nevertheless, I am convinced that a crisis is what is
essential to

complete the circuit,

telegraphically

speaking, or in other words, to b r i n g down

the

curtain on every body, e m b r a c i n g everybody, with
great eclat!"
***
CHAPTER

XIII.

T H E WRONG WOMAN.

O M E W H A T exultant over the new aspect of
affairs, and u n a b l e l o n g e r to e n d u r e the strain
of the load of love he was c a r r y i n g about
with him, Q u i m b y came to a desperate determination.
This was no other, than to confide in his roommate, a n d once dreaded rival, a n d then, provided
h e was not t h r o w n out of the window, or kicked
d o w n stairs, ask his advice about how to render
himself clearly understood by her, at the same time
relating his former u n f o r t u n a t e attempt.
T h i s p r o g r a m m e he carried into effect one m o r n -

The Wrong Woman,

199

ing, as Clem was blacking his boots. Perhaps he
had made private calculations on a blacking-brush
hitting a man with less damage than some larger
article.
" I say, Clem !" Quimby began, " I—I want to ask
your advice, you know !"
" I am at your service, my dear boy,'' replied the
unsuspecting Clem, rubbing away at his boot.
" Well—I—I want to know—the fact is, I—I am
boiling over with love !"
" What !" exclaimed Clem, looking up with an
amused smile, " you are not in love with Cyn too,
are you ?"
"With Cyn, too?" These words were balm to
the soul of Quimby, and gave him courage to
answer eagerly,
" Ah ! no use in that for me, you know ! It—
it is she—Miss Rogers—Nattie—you know !"
The blacking-brush left Clem's hand, but not to
fly at the expectant Quimby. It simply dropped
onto the floor, while Clem gave vent to his feelings
in a prolonged whistle.
" Is it possible !" he said, having thus relieved
himself of his first astonishment. " I might have
suspected as much if I had stopped to think,
though !"
" Yes, I—I think I showed it plain enough, you

200

The Wrong Woman.

know !" said Quimby candidly. " You see, I—I tried
to tell her of it once, before you came here, when
you were invisible, you know, but some way she—
she didn't just understand, and—and bolted, you
know ! So just tell me how to do it, that is a good
fellow, for do it I must !"
Clem picked up his blacking-brush, and very
deliberately smeared the boot he had just polished,
with another coat of blacking, before answering.
" How can I tell you ?" he said at last. " You
don't suppose proposing is an every-day habit of
mine, do you ? My dear boy, I never proposed in
my life !"
" But you—you ought to—I mean you will
sometime, you know ! Just give me a—a start, you
know !" pleaded Quimby, sitting down on the edge
of the bed.
" Shall I call her and propose for you ?" inquired
Clem, somewhat ironically, and glancing at the
sounder.
" No—no—I—No /" cried Quimby in great alarm
at this proposition. " She might think you meant
yourself, you know !"
" I n which case the rejection would be sure!"
said Clem. Then flinging his brush savagely into
a corner, he added as he went out,
" You must settle it yourself, old fellow! No

The Wrong Woman.

201

one can help us in those matters. There is no
duplex !"
Quimby was therefore left to his own devices ;
and his own devices brought about a most extraordinary result.
That same evening, Nattie coming over to Cyn's
room, and finding her absent, sat down to await her
return, which Mrs. Simonson assured her would be
very soon. There was no gas lighted, and in the
dusk Nattie remained, feeling, perhaps, an affinity
with the somber shadows of the twilight. As she
sat musing, now wishing " C " had left her life forever when he left it with the odors of musk and
bear's-grease about him, and now despising herself
for the weakness she found it so hard to overcome,
she became conscious of a denser shadow in the
shadows of the open door.
" I—I beg pardon. Is it Cyn ?" asked this
shadow, in the voice of Quimby.
" No," Nattie replied, " Cyn is out."
" I—I beg pardon. Is it you ?" the shadow asked
with accents of delight.
Nattie acknowledged the "you."
" And you—you are alone ?"
Nattie glanced around the room hoping the
Duchess had strayed in, so she might truthfully

202

The Wrong Woman,

say no. But she was compelled to reply in the
affirmative.
" Glorious opportunity — I — it must not be
wasted ! I—I will explain, you know !" he exclaimed, excitedly and incoherently.
But to
Nattie's surprise, instead of entering, he darted
away in such a tremendous hurry that he stumbled
and fell, and she distinctly heard his skull bang
against his own door.
But his last words were too ominous, and she
was too well acquainted with his peculiarities to
flatter herself she was permanently relieved of his
company. He had perhaps gone to brush his hair,
or take some quieting drops, but she knew he had
certainly not gone to stay, and not being exactly
in the humor for his company, Nattie resolved
to fly ignominiously. Afraid of returning to her
own room, lest she might meet him and be taken
captive, she quietly retired into Cyn's bed-room.
In a few moments she heard him stumbling over a
stool in the parlor, and was just thinking that if he
should take it into his head to remain any length of
time, she would be in rather a predicament, when to
her surprise she heard him say,
" I—I must speak ! I—I hope this time I shall
remember what I have so often—so often said in the
privacy of my own apartment, to—if I may confess

The Wrong Woman.

203

it—to a pillow—a pair of pants and a coat—placed
in a chair as a poor effigy of—of you, you know !
Will you—will you—don't speak, but let me alone,
hear me and let the—the flow of language come !"
He paused, and in the greatest bewilderment,
Nattie stared at the opposite wall. Did he by some
powerful intuition discern she was within hearing
distance, or was he in his disappointment rehearsing to her empty chair? Before Nattie could
decide between these two solutions of his conduct,
another voice, the voice of Celeste, said faintly and
aifectedly,
"Oh, Quimby!"
And then Nattie comprehended the situation.
After her own retreat, Celeste had entered and
taken the just vacated chair. It was twilight.
Celeste wore a black dress like hers, her hair was
dressed in the same style, and was the same color,
and Quimby had mistaken her for Nattie ! And in
his excitement and struggle with that " flow of language," he did not notice even that it was not Nattie's voice saying " Oh, Quimby !" for he continued,
«i_^-i—yOU may reject me—I am afraid you will,
but I must say it, you know. I must, or I shall—
I shall explode and fly into atoms !"
Here Celeste gave a little scream, but he went

204

The Wrong Woman.

on determinedly, making the most of his "glorious
opportunity."
" I—I am not like other fellows, you know ! that is,
I mean I have not the—the brass, if I may so express
myself, and I am always doing something wrong—
but I am used to it, you know—the question is,
could you get used to it? for I have a heart that is—
that is honest, and that beats all full of love—of—
love for—you know who I mean !"
There was a murmured " oh !" from Celeste, as
Quimby paused to wipe from his brow the perspiration called forth by his arduous undertaking.
" What shall I do!" frantically thought the perplexed listener, divided between the ludicrous part
of the affair, and her desire to save him from the
dilemma into which he was rushing; " what can I
do? oh ! if Cyn would only come !"
But Cyn came not, and while Nattie paused,
irresolute, and not knowing what course to take,
Quimby went on to his fate.
" I have thought, sometimes, that you liked some
other fellow—Clem, I mean-—" Nattie felt herself
blush in the darkness—"but I do hope n o t ! the
thought has made me boil in secret often, and he
loves Cyn, you know—" Nattie's color left her face
as quickly as it had come—" but oh !" and he went
down on to his knees with a whack that made the

The Wrong Woman.

205

vases on the mantel jingle. " Let me tell you what
I tried twice before to say, what is always in my
thoughts ! I—I adore you ! the ground you walk
on ! and have, ever since I first saw your nose ! I—I
beg pardon, but I fell in love with your nose ! and
will you—can you tell me that you don't love any
other fellow—Clem, I mean—and share my little
property, and be—be Mrs. Quimby, you know!"
" Ah ! really I—such a trying moment !—but
dear, dear Quimby, I never cared for Clem, never
only for you—and I am yours !"
With these words, Celeste precipitated herself
into his arms, and the next moment Nattie heard a
crash as they both fell on the floor. The sudden
shock of recognition that then burst upon him,
weakened him to such an extent that he could not
support himself, much less her, so down they went !
" He must know who it is now !" thought
Nattie, with a sigh of relief.
And meanwhile Celeste had picked herself up,
but Quimby still remained flat on the floor, bracing
himself up by his hands on either side, and staring
at her, motionless. Fortunately it was too dark for
her to see the expression of his face.
" Did you hurt yourself ?" asked Celeste at
length. " Let me help you up ! We are to help each
other now, you know."

206

The Wrong Woman,

Quimby groaned.
" Oh, misery !" he gasped. " This—my destiny is
too much for me ! Oh ! the evil deeds of darkness !
Listen to me, I implore you ! It is all a mistake ! I
thought
"
" Of course it was a mistake ! You did not suppose I thought you fell purposely, did you, dear ?"
quickly interrupted Celeste, blindly or willfully
misunderstanding—who shall say which ? " But
please get up, Cyn may come."
At this Quimby scrambled to his feet with startling suddenness, and exclaiming hastily,
" I will—I will write and tell you all—all! I
have an engagement now with a friend just around
the corner!" he rushed from the room, and would
have flown, but the pertinacious Celeste had followed, and just as he reached the outside hall,
regardless of the publicity, flung herself around
his neck, this time without bringing him to the
ground.
" It is not necessary to write !" she cried. " Pray,
do not take such a trifle so much to heart. Remember I am yours, and
"
Another voice from the stairs just above the
pair, interrupted her. It was the voice of Fishblate
p£re, and it said,
" Hugging ! Marry her !"

The Wrong Woman.

207

"I—I—will !" wailed the now alarmed Quimby,
as Celeste blushingly withdrew from her embrace
of him. " I—I will see you to-morrow if I—if I
live !" and striking his forehead with his hand, he
burst away, bounded frantically down the stairs and
fled, ejaculating,
" I knew it! I had a presentiment from my
youth !"
" Excuse his eccentricity, P a ! " Celeste said.
" He loves me so much, poor fellow !"
" H u m p h ! Get enough of that J" he growled,
with contempt.
"And he has a nice little property!" added
Celeste, as they went up stairs.
"Property is the thing!" Fishblate pire said,
with undisguised plainness.
Nattie emerged from her retreat on the hasty
exit of Quimby and Celeste, so full of regret for the
flight that had proved so disastrous to him, that the
ludicrous part of the scene just enacted was forgotten.
" Poor Quimby!" she thought, remorsefully.
" What a dreadful fix he is in ! I hope he will get
out of it ; and I am so sorry for my share in it!
How strange it would be if he should, as he once
said, marry the wrong woman, after all 1"

2o8

Quimby Accepts the Situation.

CHAPTER

XIV.

QUIMBY ACCEPTS T H E

SITUATION.

H E N Quimby rushed out into the street, it
was with some wild and indefinite intention of flying to the ends of the earth, but
recalled to his senses by the stares of the passers-by,
he concluded he had better first return and get his
hat. When he reached his own room, where Clem
was thoughtfully pacing the floor, he flung himself
face downwards upon the bed, groaning and kicking his feet spasmodically.
" What is the matter ?" Clem inquired.
" I've done it now ! I've done it now !" was all
the answer Quimby gave him.
" Has she rejected you ?" asked Clem, his mind
going back to their morning's conversation.
" No ! no ! she has accepted me !" wailed Quimby, with a prodigious kick.
" What!" shouted Clem, stopping short in his
promenade.
" She has ! Oh, she has !" moaned the wretched
victim of mistakes. " I am engaged ! Oh, heavens !
engaged !"

Quimby Accepts the Situation.

2og

" Do you mean to tell me that Miss Rogers has
accepted you?" inquired Clem harshly.
This name completely unmanned poor Quimby,
and he began to cry like a school-boy.
"Miss Rogers!—No! never—never ! but she—
Celeste !"
" Celeste !" echoed Clem ; " Celeste !"
"Yes! I—oh!—I made a mistake, you know!"
explained Quimby, wiping his eyes on the bedspread.
An irresistible smile, but quickly suppressed,
curved Clem's lips as he asked,
" But how could you possibly make such a
mistake as that ? Come, cheer up, my boy, tell me,
and let me help you out!"
Quimby looked at him mournfully.
"It—it was dark," he answered dejectedly, "she
sat in the chair—the lost Nattie I mean, it was she,
for she spoke to me ! Why did I not seize the
chance then? But n o ! I left her to—to rehearse
a little first, and when I returned—Oh !—it was still
dark, and I did not know a transformation had been
effected—I br.rst forth in eloquence, and—oh !—it
was Celeste, you know ! I fled—she followed,—
caught and hugged me in the hall ! Her father saw
—roared ' Marry her !' and I—there was no escape,
you know!"
14

2IO

Quimby Accepts the Situation.

"But, my dear fellow," remonstrated Clem,
"you can explain the mistake ! you are not obliged
to marry Celeste because you accidentally proposed
to her !"
Quimby shook his head hopelessly.
" She—she—would sue me for breach of promise
you know, and take all—all my little property !
And her terrific father—I don't know what he
'would not do to me ! Only one thing could make
me brave all !—If Miss Rogers—Nattie, would say
it might have been, had not this fearful mistake
occurred, I would face even old Fishblate and
break all bonds."
" Dear old fellow, I am afraid she—Nattie would
have rejected you, in any case. She is—a flirt!"
said Clem, somewhat savagely. " She leads people
on, for the sake of dropping them, when it suits her
convenience!"
" I—now really, I—I cannot think that; even
though she had rejected me, I could not think that T
said Quimby, loyally ; then with sudden decision,
" I will settle it now ! If I had not put it off before,
as I did, I might not have blundered into this awful
fix, you know ! I hear them in Cyn's room now ;
Cyn and Nattie; come with me ! I—I will have
witnesses, and no mistakes this time, you know !"

Quimby Accepts the Situation.

211

" What are you going to do ?" asked Clem, following his excited friend, rather reluctantly.
" I am going to find out if she—Nattie—-likes me,
you know ! if she does, I will brave Celeste—her
fierce father—the law ! if not—why then, I must be a
martyr anyway, you know, and I don't care how
big a one I am !"
So saying, Quimby went across to Cyn's room,
Clem, not exactly liking the position thrust upon
him, but unwilling to refuse, accompanying him.
Meanwhile, Nattie had pounced upon Cyn, the
moment she returned, exclaiming,
" Oh ! Cyn ! such a dreadful thing has happened !"
" What ? how ? when ?" asked Cyn, while, from
the effects of the melodrama she had just been witnessing, visions of Clem, with a dozen bullets in his
head, danced before her eyes.
" Quimby ! poor Quimby ! I have ruined him !"
was Nattie's remorseful and unintelligible answer.
" Well, my dear, if you could possibly be a trifle
lucid, perhaps I could understand the plot of the
piece," said Cyn, decidedly relieved of her first
surmise.
Upon which Nattie, half laughing and half crying, explained. But the ludicrous side was too
much for Cyn, and she could only laugh.

212

Quimby Accepts the Situation.

"What a farce it would make !" she said, as soon
as she could speak.
" Oh, Cyn !" Nattie said, reproachfully. " Think
how dreadful it is for Quimby, and for me, the unmeaning instrument of it all!"
"Nonsense, my dear," said Cyn, more seriously,
and bringing her philosophy to bear on the subject,
" It was not your fault! she was determined to have
him in any case ! Had it been you, as he supposed,
you would of course have declined the proffered
honor, and she would have caught him in the
rebound ! If he has spirit enough, he can get out of
marrying her in some way. If not—she will make
him a good wife enough. Men, you know, as she
says, prefer to marry women who don't know too
much ; so it is all right!"
And with this Nattie was fain to be content.
But she felt great pity for the poor fellow ; perhaps
because of the unhappiness in her own heart.
It is only from the depths of our own sorrows
that we learn to feel for that of others.
As Quimby and Clem entered, both Nattie and
Cyn looked surprised and curious, but Quimby, so
excited now that his usual nervous bashfulness was
forgotten, said immediately,
" I—I beg pardon, I am sure, for calling so late,
but my business will not wait, and I wanted Clem

Quimby Accepts the Situation,

213

as witness—he and Cyn—so as to make no mistake
now !" then turning to the astonished Nattie, he
went on,
" Nattie, I—I—my feelings for you have long
been of—of adoration—no, please, hear me—" as
she made a gesture to interrupt him. "To-night,
in this room, I addressed another—Celeste—" here
he groaned, but recovered himself and went on,
" in the dark, you know, with words intended for
you.
I want to know now, what, had I not been
so deceived, you would have said?"
"But what difference can it make now?" asked
Nattie, hesitating, and wishing to spare him, as
he paused for a reply.
"Every difference!" said Quimby, wildly. " I
beg you to—to answer me truly, in order that I
may know what course to take !"
" Then since you wish," replied Nattie, with a
pitying glance, " I will tell you that as a friend I
think very highly of you, and always shall. But,
that is all."
" Then come on, Celeste !" exclaimed Quimby,
in a burst of despair. " She—she says, she loves me,
and I—I may get used to it in time ! all but her
teeth," he added, in his strict honesty, " t o those I
never can !"
Cyn felt a mischievous desire to hint that time

214

Quimby Accepts the Situation.

might relieve him of his objection, but restrained
herself and said,
" But you can explain the matter to her, you
know !"
" Just what I have been telling him," said Clem.
" No woman would force herself on a man under
such circumstances !"
" She would, I feel it !" answered the unconvinced Quimby. " Miss Rogers—Nattie, I—I thank
you, I—I shall always remember you as something unattainable and dear, and hope somebody
more worthy may be to you what I would have
been if I could. But I—I was born to make mistakes, you know, and I—I am used to it—and ought
to be thankful it was not Miss Kling !"
" I am very, very sorry!" murmured Nattie,
and Clem saw there were tears in her eyes.
" Moral—never make love in the dark !" said
Cyn, looking with solemn warning at Clem.
" Be sure that all—all the gas in the room is
lighted if ever you propose !" added Quimby, miserably, to his friend.
" I will remember," said Clem, glancing at
Nattie. "There are worse mistakes made in the
dark than on the wire, it seems !"
" Far—far worse !" groaned Quimby, as Nattie
hastily turned her head aside.

One Summer Day.

215

" But now, really, Quimby !" urged Cyn, seriously, " do be sensible.' Do not be foolish enough
to marry a woman you do not want, because you
cannot have the one you do !"
But Quimby, with the fear of old Fishblate, and
a breach of promise suit, and a dread of explanations in his mind—moreover, having firmly decided
that a little more or less of misery did not matter,
could not be persuaded to take any steps himself, or
allow them to be taken, to free himself from the
result of his latest mistake.
Therefore, it came about, to the surprise of those
not in the secret, and the unconcealed exultation of
one of the parties immediately concerned, that the
engagement of Quimby and Celeste was announced.
—

•»•

CHAPTER

XV.

ONE SUMMER DAY.

HE week that decided Quimby's fate so unexpectedly and brought him so much
woe, to Cyn brought good tidings. Her
success at the concert had been so decided that she

216

One Summer

Day.

was the recipient of many offers for the coming
season, and was enabled to accept those that promised most advantageously. No one was more honestly glad than was Nattie in her congratulations ;
Nattie, who had fought and overcome that selfish
pain and bitter wonder of hers, why Cyn should
have everything and she nothing.
Since the approach of summer, a much-talked-of
project among them had been a little picnic party in
the woods, and as Clem now proposed to get it up
in honor of Cyn's success, the plan was immediately
carried out. Mrs. Simonson, with a feeble protest,
because Miss Kling was not invited, accompanied
them. The "them," of course, consisted of Cyn,
Nattie, Clem, Jo, and the newly betrothed ones.
Nature was kind to these seekers of her solitudes,
and gave them a perfect day ; one of those that
occur in our uncertain climate less often than might
be wished, but that penetrate everywhere with their
sunshine, when they do come, even into hearts
where sunshine seldom glances. So, for the nonce,
our friends forgot all their little troubles; even
Quimby brightening up, and ceasing to think of his
engagement, as they stood underneath the green
trees, by the banks of a small river; sunshine
everywhere, and the music of birds in the air.

One Summer

Day.

217

" Is it not glorious ?" cried Cyn, like a child, in
her exuberance.
" Why not camp out here, and stay all summer ?"
ecstatically suggested Clem, as he fondled his fishing tackle.
" But it might not always be pleasant like this,"
said practical Mrs. Simonson.
"When the sun shines we forget it may ever
storm," said Jo, and looking admiringly at Cyn as
he spoke.
" Is our artist a philosopher, as well as all the
rest we know he is ?" asked Cyn, laughing.
" A very little one; five feet six !" replied Jo.
" Well, we will have no shadows to-day," said
Cyn.
" No shadows to-day !" echoed Jo ; then turning to Mrs. Simonson, asked, " I hope you do not
still regret Miss Kling !"
" I suppose she would spoil it all !" that good
lady committed herself enough to say.
" Well, really, I must say," remarked Celeste,
who now gave herself many airs, and evidently
looked upon Cyn and Nattie as commonplace
creatures, not engaged !—" I must say, now that you
are speaking of her, that she does Kling in a way
that is not pleasant sometimes. She actually
annoys pa !"

218

One Summer

Day.

" I thought she entertained a high regard for
The Tor—for your father," said mischievous Cyn.
"That is exactly it !" replied Celeste. " Too
high a regard ! Truly, she behaves very ridiculously ! Why, she positively waylays pa! so indelicate in a woman, you know !" with sublime unconsciousness of ever having indulged in the pastime of waylaying herself ! " Such an old creature,
too ! she is always coming and wanting to mend his
old clothes and stockings ! Poor pa actually has to
lock himself in his room sometimes !"
The vision of " poor pa " thus pursued was too
much for the gravity of the company, and there was
a general laugh.
" It is true," asserted Celeste. " Now, isn't it,
Ralfy ?"'appealing to her betrothed with appropriate bashfulness.
Everybody stared at this. No one before ever
really knew that Quimby possessed a front door to
his name, and he, as surprised as any one at the
cognomen Love had discovered, fell back on a
rolling log, and clutched his legs to that extent
that they must have been black and blue for a week
afterwards.
Clem saved the discomfited " Ralfy" the necessity
of replying, by interposing with,
" Come ! come ! let us not talk on such incongru*

One Summer Day,

219

ous subjects this lovely day! let us rather talk
sentiment!" and he gave a prodigious wink in Jo's
direction.
" I fear we are not a very sentimental party !"
laughed Cyn ; adding mischievously, " except, of
course, Quimby and Celeste !"
" Oh ! I—I am not, I assure you ! I am not in the
least, you know !" protested Quimby, taking a roll
on the log ; u never felt less so in my life."
" Why, Ralfy !" exclaimed Celeste, reproachfully,
and to his distress went up close to him, and would
have sat down by his side, but for the uncontrollable
rolling propensity of that log, which made it impossible.
"How is it with you, J o ? " queried Cyn; "can
you not for once, forget your horrible hobby, and be
a little sentimental, in honor of the day ?"
Jo, who was throwing sticks into the water, to
the great disturbance of the bugs, and plainly-shown
annoyance of a big frog, made a somewhat surprising reply. Decidedly seriously, he said,
" I fear if I should attempt it, I might get too
much in earnest!"
" Oh ! we will risk that, so please begin !" said
Cyn, but staring at him a little as she spoke. " Jo,
sentimental ! Just imagine it !"
" Will you risk it ?" he asked, still seriously, and

220

One Summer

Day.

with so peculiar an expression that she could reply
only by another astonished stare.
" But really, it does riot pay to be sentimental,
as you all ought to have found out long ago ! as Jo
and I have !" Nattie said, jestingly, yet with an
undertone of earnestness.
"Then," said Clem, dryly, "since it is so with
us, let us fish !" and he threw his line into the stream.
Cyn, Jo, and Mrs. Simonson followed his example. Quimby declined joining in the sport, and perhaps, likening himself to the fish, balanced himself
on the log, and looked on with a pathetic face.
Celeste, as in duty bound, remained by his side.
Nattie, too, was an observer only, and from the
expression off her face was decidedly not amused.
" I think it is cruel!" she exclaimed, as Jo took
a fish off Cyn's hook.
"I—I quite agree with you !" Quimby replied
quickly, in answer to Nattie's observation. " It is
cruel !"
" But perhaps the fish were made for people to
catch," suggested the pacific Mrs. Simonson, who
had not yet been able to get a bite.
" Yes," acquiesced Clem, pulling up a skinny
little fish. " They are no worse off than we poor
mortals after all. We must each fulfill our destiny,
whether man or fish."

One Summer Day,

221

" Yes ! it is all fate !" exclaimed Quimby vehemently. "We cannot help ourselves !"
" You believe in fate then ? I don't think I do !"
said Cyn, with a glance half-humorous, half-pitying,
at its victim on the log ; " what incentive would we
have to any effort, if we were sure everything was
marked out for us in advance?"
" That is a question requiring too much effort
for us to discuss on a warm day," said Nattie.
" Certain circumstances must bring about certain results, you will acknowledge," Clem gravely
remarked.
"But, it is said that every soul that is born has a
twin somewhere; and if so, that must be fate !" said
Mrs. Simonson.
"Miss Kling's theory, I believe!" laughed
Nattie.
"If it is so, the right ones don't often come
together," said Quimby gloomily.
" We are an exception, then, to the general
rule!" simpered Celeste.
Quimby groaned, and then murmured something about the toothache.
" Poor fellow !" said Cyn, in a low voice, to
Nattie.
"After all, there is something in fate," Nattie
sighed.

222

One Summer

Day,

" Perhaps so," she said.
" Well, we will not get solemn over fate," said
Jo, cheerily; then, in a lower voice, as he glanced at
Cyn, he added—" yet."
" And do not frighten away what few fish there
are here, with your theories," commanded Clem.
Although this mandate was obeyed, and for a
time silence reigned, it was not long before they
were all singing a gay song, started by Clem himself, even Quimby joining in the chorus with a
feeble tenor. But they were tired of fishing by that
time, and began to feel as if a little refreshment
would not be out of place, and would indeed
enhance the loveliness of Nature, so a fire was made,
and lunch-baskets unpacked.
"It will take a good many of those fish for a
mouthful," declared Clem, who was cook.
" You may have my share, I can't eat creatures I
have seen squirm," said Nattie.
" Ah, you fastidious young woman ! what shall I
ever do with you, if you are cast away on a desert
island with me ?" exclaimed Clem, in mock despair.
" Set up a telegraph wire, and then she would
need nothing more," insinuated Cyn.
" And get snubbed for my pains!" muttered
Clem, sotto voce. But Nattie caught the words, and
an expression of distress passed over her face.

One Summer Day.

223

" This reminds me of that feast!" Cyn declared,
as they seated themselves wherever convenient, with
a dish of whatever was handy.
"Only more so," added Clem.
" What feast ?" asked Celeste, curiously.
" O n e we had once," Cyn replied evasively, glad
there was something Celeste did not knowT about.
In fact, in the matter of curiosity, Celeste was an
embryo Miss Kling.
" I am sorry we have no Charlotte Russes to-day,
Quimby," remarked Clem, with an expression of
transparent innocence.
Quimby could only reply with a groan. The
recollections awakened were too much.
"What is the matter now, Ralfy?" asked the
loving Celeste.
Again Quimby muttered something about " that
tooth."
" O h !" said Celeste, tenderly, "you really must
have it out, Ralfy !"
The possibility of being obliged to part with a
sound tooth in self-defense, restored him for the
time being. But he was not the only one to whom
the retrospect brought a momentary pain.
Nattie
sighed as she looked back to the day that had
brought Clem, but not restored as she then supposed, but taken away, her " C."

224

One Summer

Day.

" The salubrious air and the invigorating odor
of the forest adds immeasurably to the natural
capacity of the appetite !" commented Jo, gravely,
as he passed his plate for the seventh fish.
" Ah !" sighed Celeste, who prided herself on her
delicacy, " I never could eat more than would satisfy a mouse, and since my engagement," simpering,
" I cannot swallow enough to scarce keep me
alive !"
Quimby looked up eagerly.
"I—I beg pardon, but if the—if the engagement
weighs upon you, I—I am willing to release you,
you know !" he exclaimed, hopefully.
" You jealous creature !" replied Celeste, archly.
"You know, Ralfy, that no consideration could
make me release you !"
Quimby knew it only too well, and sighed as he
picked a chicken bone.
" A great objection to dining in the woods is
that one is apt to find his food unexpectedly seasoned !" said Clem, as he captured a six-legged bug
of an adventurous spirit, that had sought to investigate the contents of his plate.
"Isn't it strange that bugs don't seem half so
bad in our food here as they would at home !" said
Mrs. Simonson.
" Oh ! we can get used to anything, if we only

One Summer

Day.

22%

think so !" said Cyn, bringing her cheery philosophy to the front.
" Yes !" assented Quimby, mournfully, " I—I
am used to it, you know !"
Cyn laughed, and then proposed the health of
the betrothed pair, which was drank in lager beer,
and to which Quimby, bolstered up by Celeste, attempted to respond, but collapsed in the middle of
the third sentence, and with the words,
" Thank you! and I—I am used to it, you
know !" sat down, wiped his forehead on his napkin, and looked intensely miserable.
After that they toasted Cyn, and then "Dots
and Dashes," and last, Jo with mock solemnity proposed "Fate."
And just then Quimby met with a fresh mishap,
and came near ending his sufferings in a watery
grave, only the water did not happen to be quite
deep enough.
Arising from the sharp-pointed
rock that had served him for a pivot on which to
eat his dinner, he stumbled, fell and rolled over and
over down the bank, and into the river, with a tremendous splash.
Every one jumped up in consternation.
" Oh, Clem ! Jo !" shrieked Celeste, wringing
her hands, and rushing down to the water's edge.
" Save him ! Save my darling Ralfy !"
15

226

One Summer

Day.

" Ralfy," however, was equal to saving his own
life this time. The water was only up to his waist,
and he had already picked himself up and was
wading ashore.
" I—I am all right !" he said looking up at his
anxious friends with a reassuring smile. " I—I am
used to it, you know !"
As Clem assisted him up the bank, the thought
came into Cyn's head, why would it not be a good
idea to push Nat—accidentally—into the river, so
Clem might rescue her, and thus bring about that
much to be desired crisis ? But remembering that
water would run the colors of her dress, and farther,
how dreadfully unbecoming it was to be wet—a
fact fully demonstrated by the present appearance
of Quimby—Cyn rejected the idea as not exactly
feasible.
They left Quimby drying on a sunny bank, with
Celeste as guardian angel, love, and the remains of
the repast to cheer her, and the consciousness that
his clothes were shrinking on him as they dried, to
divert him^ and wandered off through the woods,
and over the hills, gathering on the way so many
flowers and green things, that Cyn declared they
looked like Birnam Wood coming to Dunsinane.
At first they were all together, then straggled
apart; Mrs. Simonson being the first dereliction, as

One Summer

Day.

227

she was not quite equal to climbing as fast as the
young people. Thus it came about that Nattie
found herself alone with Clem, and suddenly stopping, with some embarrassment, but steadily, said,
"There is something I wish to say to you. You
have spoken several times of late about my ' snubbing ' you. I want to say, I have not intentionally
done so ; that I have the same—the same friendship
for you as always, and that I wish you every happiness. What may have appeared to you as strange
or cold in my conduct of late, is due to secrets of
my own."
Clem look at her scrutinizingly, as she spoke,
and the flowers he had gathered fell unheeded from
his hands.
"It has never been my wish that any coldness
should come between us ; you know that, Nattie,"
he replied earnestly. " From our first acquaintance,
the old acquaintance over the wire, you have held
the same place in my heart!"
" The place next to Cyn !" was Nattie's involuntary bitter thought, but she instantly stifled the
feeling, and answered,
" Thank you, Clem ; and I hope we may always
be the same friends."
At this Clem took an impetuous step towards
her, and would have said—who can tell what ?—had

228

One Summer

Day.

not at the same moment Mrs. Simonson, very much
out of breath, come up with them. Nattie was not
sorry. She had wished to say to him what she had,
that he might not think her changed manner of late
had been caused by any feeling of dislike, and might
understand she wished him success with Cyn. But
she had no desire to prolong the interview, and
gladly walked on by the side of the puffing Mrs.
Simonson.
Clem, however, looked displeased, and followed
with a thoughtful face ; so thoughtful that Mrs. Simonson noticed and wondered at his preoccupation.
Meanwhile, Cyn, with Jo, were far in advance,
and had turned into a by-path that led toward a
slight rising, sauntering on, Cyn talking merrily,
Jo unusually quiet, until suddenly stopping, she
exclaimed,
" Dear me ! we have lost sight of 'every one !
Had we not better return ?"
" No ! I do not want to !" answered Jo, bluntly.
" D o you not ? As you say, only we must not
lose them. Possibly they may stroll this way ; shall
we sit down ?" and without waiting for a response
Cyn seated herself on a big rock by the side of the
pathway.
Although Jo was hot romantic, he had an artist's
eye, and could not but note the beauty of the scene

One Summer

Day.

229

before him, a scene he did not need to reproduce on
canvas to remember ever after ;—the mountains in
the background, the narrowT path sloping down from
the near hill to where, on the gray and moss-covered
rock, Cyn sat, her dark eyes mellow with the summer
sunshine, and the cherry ribbons of her hat giving the
requisite touch of color to make the picture perfect.
For a moment he stood in silent admiration,
then, taking off his hat, and smoothing down his
shaven locks, he said,
" To tell the truth, Cyn, I do hope they will not
stroll this way. They are around altogether too
much. I never can have a quiet talk with you !"
" I declare, I believe in addition to your being
unsentimental, and all that, you are becoming a confirmed grumbler !" exclaimed Cyn, as she caught
one of the boughs of the tree overhead and turned a
merrily-protesting face towards him.
Jo looked at her, and a queer expression came
over his face.
" Am I ?" he said, slowly. " Well—would you
like to see me sentimental ? Would you like to see
me make a fool of myself ?"
" Nothing would give me greater pleasure !"
cried Cyn.
* Then," exclaimed Jo, planting himself directly

230

One Summer

Day.

in front of her, "here goes! now I am going to
astonish you very much, Cyn !"
" Very well ! I am all impatience ! Go on !"
" But it is no joke !" he replied, in protest to her
laughing face. " If I am to make a fool of myself I
am going to do it in dead earnest !"
" That is the way, of course," responded Cyn,
but beginning to look a little surprised.
For Jo seemed very much excited, and his manner indicated anything but a jest. Extraordinary
creature, that Jo ! His next proceeding was even
more strange ; that was to ask the apparently irrelevant question,
" Do you remember what we were all saying a
short time ago, about Fate ?"
" Certainly ; but are you going to favor me with
a dissertation on Fate, instead of making a fool of
yourself ?"
" No !" was the solemn reply, " have a little
patience, Cyn. The fact is, you are my Fate—there
is no mistake about it!—and must be either cruel or
kind, and there's no alternative !"
Cyn's surprise increased visibly.
" I am sure, I do not understand you at all! how
queer you are to-day, Jo !"
" Of course I am queer ! when a man throws
his theories and hobbies to the winds, and confesses

One Summer

Day.

231

himself conquered, he is apt to be queer, is he not ?
Can you not understand, that I, Jo Norton, who have
always scoffed at sentiment, and proudly declared
myself incapable of being the victim of love, am
ready—yes, and longing !—to make as big a fool of
myself as the veriest spooniest youth in existence,
and all for love of you, Cyn ?"
To this exceedingly novel declaration of love,
Cyn responded by releasing the bough she held, and
staring at him with distended eyes and a perfectly
blank face ; for once in her life, speechless.
" I told you I was going to astonish you," said
Jo, quaintly, in answer to her prolonged stare, "and
I do not wonder that you cannot believe I really
love you ! I did not myself, for a long time, and I
would not after I knew it! But it is a fact. No
joke—no mistake, but a sober, serious fact! I love
you, love you, love you !"
Jo's voice grew very fervent, as he uttered these
last words, and was in such striking contrast to his
ordinary manner, that Cyn could but see that this
was indeed, " no joke."
" You—you love—and love me!" she gasped.
" Yes, I could not help it! I have only known it
within a few days, but I think I have loved you ever
since we first met, only those confounded theories
of mine blinded me."

232

One Summer

Day.

" Well—but what are you going to do about it ?"
questioned Cyn, unable yet to recover from her bewilderment.
Jo looked at her, wistfully.
" I know I am homely, Cyn, and I am poor ; I have
nothing to offer you but an honest, loving and true
heart. I suppose a man who is in love is naturally
unreasonable—I never was in love before, you know
—but an extravagant hope will whisper to me, that
even this little might not be unappreciated by you."
And as he spoke, Jo's face was so transfigured
that it could no longer be called plain. Cyn gazed
at him in wonder, and recovering partly from her
first surprise, an unusual seriousness came over her
own handsome face, as she answered earnestly,
" It is not unappreciated ! oh, no, Jo ! Nothing to
offer me but an honest, loving and true heart, you
say ? why, that is everything !"
i(
Then will you accept it ? May I try and win
your love?" he asked eagerly, advancing close to
her. •• I will work very hard to make myself worthy
of it, and to win a name you need not be ashamed to
bear. I lay myself, my life at your feet, Cyn."
<f
And this is unsentimental Jo !" Cyn exclaimed
involuntarily.
"This is unsentimental Jo," he answered, in all

One Summer Day.

233

humility. " Do with him what you will; he is all
yours/'
Into Gyn's expressive eyes came some deeplystirred emotion.
" I am so sorry ;" she said, sadly, " so very, very
sorry! what shall I say ? what shall I do ? I like
you so much as a friend ! But what you ask, Jo,
could never be !"
The sun sank behind the distant hills, and a
shadow, such as had fallen over the woods behind
them, settled on Jo's face.
" The idea is new to you. At least, think it over.
Do not leave me without a little hope," he entreated.
"Jo, I wish—yes ! I do wish that I could love
you as you deserve to be loved," said Cyn,
earnestly. " But it cannot be ! it never could be !
Do not deceive yourself with false hopes. Friends
always, Jo, but lovers never !" " Ah !" exclaimed Jo, bitterly, unable to restrain
his jealousy, " it is Clem who stands between us !"
" Clem who stands between us !" echoed Cyn,
astounded for the second time that day.
"There:—now I have lowered myself in your
estimation ; I am but a blundering fool, Cyn. You
see I am selfish in my love; and I have not yet
become sentimental enough to be willing to see another fellow win what is all the world to me !"

234

One Summer

Day.

Cyn's face grew red as was the sky when the sun
had gone down.
"Do you mean to insinuate that I am in love
with Clem ?" she asked, angrily.
" I would not insinuate it for all the world, if
you are not," was Jo's eager reply; " I am not experienced in love matters, but I am quite sure he
loves you—and he is very handsome," he added
ruefully.
" What a dreadful combination of circumstances !" cried Cyn, distractedly. " But, pshaw !
It's impossible!"
"Impossible? No, indeed! Why, it was by
being so jealous of him that I first awoke to the fact
that I was in love with you myself. Besides, every
one has noticed his fondness for you."
" They have ?" vehemently, and smiting the rock
where she sat with her hand, as she spoke. "But
this is truly awful !"
" Then you do not care for him ?" questioned Jo,
joyfully.
"Care for him?" repeated Cyn, irritably. "Of
course I care for him ! Is it not my pet scheme
that he should marry Nattie ? Certainly it is, and
has been from the first ! And now, if he has gone
and fallen in love with me, a nice predicament we
will all be in. But you must be mistaken ! I can-

One Summer Day.

235

not believe him capable of such a thing ! The
only reason I have to fear it is that I would not
have credited it of you yesterday !"
" But you see I do love you. You believe I do,
do you not, Cyn ?" asked Jo, too eager to press his
own suit to give much thought to Nattie and Clem.
" Why will you not try and love me, as you do not
love Clem ? Am I so homely as to be repulsive to
you ?"
" Homely ? Nonsense !" replied Cyn, momentarily putting aside her newest anxiety for the
previous one, " now I come to think of it, I had
rather marry you than any man I know !"
" Would you ? Would you really ?" seizing her
hand hopefully. " Then why will you not ?"
Cyn allowed her hand to remain in his as she
said slowly and impressively,
" I cannot marry. That is entirely out of the
question for me. Of my life, love can form no
part !"
" But I thought you believed in love ?" said Jo,
looking perplexed, but clinging to her hand as
a sort of anchor.
" I do. I believe it is the best happiness of life.
But it cannot be for me. Why, I will tell you. I
owe this much in return for what you have given
m e ; what I prize even though I am compelled to

236

One Summer

Day,

refuse it. What stands between us is the memory
of a love—gone forever."
" What !" exclaimed Jo, astounded in his turn.
" You do not mean to say that you—that you—you,
the gayest of the gay—that you—" Jo stopped,
unable to proceed.
" You hardly expected to find me in the role of
the victim of a broken heart, did you ?" questioned
Cyn, with a half-sad, half-humorous smile. " I
admit I do not exactly answer to the average
description, and my heart is not broken—-there is
only a blank in it—something dead that can never
live again. Once I loved a man with all my
heart "—Jo sighed—" with all the illusion of youth,
and he loved me. The difference between his love
and mine was, that mine was forever, and his was
for a day."
" Impossible !" interrupted Jo. " No man who
once loved you could ever change.''
" He happened to be one of the kind who could.
I never really knew the cause—it might have been
another woman. You know there always is another
woman."
" Or another man," added Jo gloomily.
"Yes," assented Cyn, and continued. " H e was
one of the kind, I think now, who are incapable of
appreciating a woman's love, and consequently

One Sttmmer Day.

237

unworthy of it. But unfortunately, I did not know
this, and wasted mine on him. So he and love,
went out of my life forever. But," with a proud
raising of her head, " I would not be weak enough
to allow all my life to be ruined because one part of
it was wrecked ; with so much gone, there still remained something, and of that I made the most.
This is why my art is everything to me, and why I
cannot marry you."
" But it seems to me unreasonable, that because
you loved one man who was unworthy, you should
refuse the love of another who would try very hard
to make you forget that first sad experience,"
argued Jo. " Give me what you have left, Cyn ! If
it be but dead ashes, I will thank God for the gift,
and perhaps, at some future day, in response to my
devotion, even from those ashes shall arise another
love, so strong, so intense, that, in comparison, the
old shall be but as some half-forgotten trouble
of childhood, whose remembrance cannot awaken
even a passing pain."
The fervor of an honest affection made Jo truly
eloquent, and his true blue eyes met the dark ones
of Cyn, glowing with earnestness and love, and for
a moment she looked at him and hesitated. Then
she arose, saying resolutely,
" No ! Jo ! no ! Do not tempt me ! The expe-

238

One Summer

Day.

riment would be too dangerous ! To give you a
warmed-over affection in return for your whole
heart, would only be misery for us both—more misery than I am bringing to you now. I respect and
esteem you, as I said before—we will be friends—
comrades—always—no more !"
As she spoke, she extended her hand to him, in
farewell to all his hopes.
And so understanding he clasped it, a sadness
on his face she had never seen there before.
" As you will, Cyn," he replied, brokenly, " but
I shall love you—forever !"
As he spoke, from below came the cry,
" Cyn ! Jo ! where are you ? we are going !"
" Coming !" Cyn's clear voice answered back.
" One moment," Jo said, detaining her, " may I
—may I kiss you once, Cyn? Once, and for the
last time ?"
There were tears in Cyn's eyes. She bent her
handsome head, their lips met, then, without a
word, they went on together to join those who
awaited them.
And it was thus Fate decreed for these two.
Love brings the most intense sorrows, the keenest
joys of life. But there must always be some lives,
into which comes only the sadness, and none of the
bliss, of loving.

O. K.

239

C H A P T E R XVI.
O. K.

E A V I N G Clem, on their arrival at the hotel,
to bear the burden of the green stuff they had
brought from the woods, Cyn, with a trace of
melancholy on her sunny face, followed Nattie to
her room. For Cyn's joyous picnic, with its gay
beginning, had ended sadly enough for her.
" I want to ask you something," Cyn said, with
frank directness, as she carefully closed the door
behind them. " And that is, are you, can you be
foolish enough to imagine, that Clem and I are in
love with each other ?"
The small basket Nattie held in her hand fell to
the floor, at this unexpected question. Had Cyn
drawn forth a bowie-knife, and playfully clipped
off her nose, she could not have been more astounded.
" If you can possibly reduce your eyes to their
ordinary size, and give me a candid yes or no, I will
be obliged," Cyn said, rather petulantly, after
waiting in vain for an answer. The events of the
day had sorely tried her usually even temper.
A little tremulously, while a burning flush covered her face, Nattie answered her,

240

O. K.

" I—I have heard it intimated !"
" You have heard it intimated ! That means yes,
to my question," said Cyn ; then sinking despairingly
on the lounge, she added, "here is a crisis of
which I never dreamed !"
Not understanding very well, and moreover
much agitated by the subject, Nattie knew not what
to say.
" This is awful !" went on Cyn, savagely beating
the pillow with her fist; " what contrary things love
affairs are !"
Fearful of having in some way betrayed her
secret—the only conclusion she could draw from
Cyn's extraordinary outburst—Nattie stood looking
guiltily at the floor a few moments, then recovering
herself, she went to Cyn, and said, in a voice full of
emotion,
" I do not just comprehend your meaning, dear,
but it may be you think I might not quite like the
idea, on account of that—that first affair on the wire
If so, dismiss the thought. You and Clem are
suited to each other, and
" Nattie stopped, unable to continue.
Cyn, who had been beating the innocent pillow,
as if it was the cause of all this, while Nattie was
speaking, now threw it across the room, as she exclaimed,

O. K.
u

22|I

Oh ! the perversity of human nature ! Oh !
you degenerate girl ! As if I cared for Clem in
that way ! Have I not from the first set my heart
on this real-life romance ending in the only way it
could rightfully end ?"
A sudden light came into Nattie's face, but it
died away in a moment.
"Then you do not care for him? Poor Clem !"
she said, in a low voice.
" P o o r Clem, indeed!" cried Cyn, pacing the
floor excitedly. " I cannot—no, I cannot—believe
it of him ! He certainly has sagacity enough not
to run his head against a beam in broad daylight
even
-"
" If Jo had not," she was about to add, but checked
herself suddenly. Not for the world would she
betray Jo's confidence. What had passed between
them to-day should be a secret always, never again
to be mentioned—but never forgotten in the friendship and companionship of after years.
" You must be very difficult to suit, dear, if you
do not like Clem !" said Nattie, with unconscious
significance, after waiting in vain for Cyn to finish
her sentence.
" It is not that," replied Cyn, somewhat sadly.
Do you not know I have only one love,—
music ?"
16

242

0. K.

" P o o r Clem!" again said Nattie, from the
depths of her tender heart. " For I know he loves
you, dear. He could not help it, who could ?"
Such words would have been sweet to the vanity
of an ordinary woman. But on Cyn they had a
very opposite effect.
" Things have come to a pretty pass if one cannot laugh and joke, and enjoy one's self with
friends without being made love to !" she' said,
annoyed. Then looking scrutinizingly at Nattie,
she asked,
" And you—did you really wish Clem and I
might love each other ?"
Nattie played nervously with the fringe of her
dress, hesitated, then replied in a low tone,
" I fear I did not, Cyn !"
" Then it may come right yet!" exclaimed Cyn,
hopefully.
Nattie shook her head.
" And he loving you ? Oh, no !" she said. " I
shall never be able to say O. K. to what you term
your romance of the dots and dashes, Cyn. In
fact, I have made up my mind that there are some
people born to go through life missing both its
best and its worst, and that I am one !"
" Pray, do not say that !" urged Cyn, too

O. K.

243

disturbed to bring her easy philosophy to bear
on the situation. " Of all things, do not get morbid."
" But it is the truth !" persisted Nattie. " Even
my name, for instance, proves it! I was christened
Nathalie, a very fine poetic name. But, in all
my life no one ever called me by it! I was always
mediocre Nattie !"
" And / have curtailed you down to Nat !" said
Cyn, with whimsical remorse. " But what a tangle
we are in ! First it was the man of musk and bear's
grease, who came between you! Then, when he
was explained away, came blundering I ! Why did
you not lock me out of sight somewhere ? I would
have done it myself had I known
" ironically—
" what an extremely fascinating and dangerous person I was !"
At this Nattie could not help smiling.
" Is was not your fault ; it was Fate !" she said,
her smile becoming a sigh, that Cyn echoed, for she
thought of Jo. But yet unconvinced, she said,
" Fate ! No ; it cannot be ! I think better of Clem
than to believe he, too, has made a mistake, like
Quimby, and fallen in love with the wrong
woman !" then starting up, she exclaimed, tragically, " Who ? ah ! who shall cut the Gordian knot

244

O. K.

and bring about a crisis that shall cause this
' wired love ' to terminate in ' O. K/ ?"
As if invoked by Cyn's words, there came a
sneeze from outside, and Miss Kling pushed open
the door unceremoniously.
" I wish to have some conversation with you,
Miss Rogers," she said in a tone of severity.
" Some other time, if you please," Nattie replied,
impatiently, for her talk with Cyn had unnerved
her; "just now I am engaged."
Miss Kling drew herself up and said, with even
more austerity,
" There is no time like the present, and since
Miss Archer is here, it may not be amiss for her to
hear what I have to say."
Nattie frowned, but Cyn, not unwilling to be
diverted even by Miss Kling from the topic that was
so annoying her, said,
"Very well. We are listening, Miss Kling."
" Miss Rogers," proceeded Miss Kling solemnly,
after a preparatory sneeze, " I know all"
The emphasis on the last word was truly tremendous, and Nattie started astonished, while Cyn
looked up with awakened curiosity.
" May I inquire what you mean by all ?" inquired Nattie stiffly.
"Yes," repeated Miss Kling, without heeding

0. K.

245

the question. " I know ALL. I have for some time
suspected that something underhanded was going
on. Now I know what it is that has been so carefully concealed from me ! I have long objected to
your associates, Miss Rogers, but——"
" Pardon me, but that certainly does not concern
you !" interrupted Cyn disdainfully.
Miss Kling looked at her and sneezed a sinister
sneeze,
" It concerns me to know what kind of people I
have in my house !" she replied, " and since you
force me to speak out, Miss Archer, I will say that
in my opinion no truly modest and proper girl
would become intimate with those who pad their
legs and paint their faces, and show themselves to
the public "—this insinuation struck Cyn so comically that she could hardly suppress a laugh. " My
suspicions, to return to what I was about to say,
Miss Rogers, were first awakened by hearing that
—that instrument"—Cyn and Nattie exchanged
looks of intelligence—" you have here, going, when
I knew you were not in the room. And now, as
I said, I know all / I pass over the audacity of such
proceedings on my premises, but their utter immorality is too much for me to bear ! Yes ! I found a
wire, and know where it leads ! Into the room of
two young men ! That any young woman should

246

O. IC

be so immodest as to establish telegraphic communication between her bed-room and the bed-room of
two young men is beyond my comprehension !"
Cyn felt a mischievous desire to inquire how it
would have struck her, had it been the bed-room of
one young man? Nattie, who had flushed crimson
at the first knowledge of Miss Kling's discovery,
now drew herself up and replied with dignity,
" Really, Miss Kling, I think this extravagance
of language utterly uncalled for ! I admit it was
not exactly correct for me to allow the wire to be
run without consulting you, but beyond that, there
was nothing reprehensible in my conduct."
Miss Kling held up her hands in horror.
" Nothing reprehensible in being connected by a
telegraph wire with two young men!" she exclaimed. " Nothing
"
" Excuse my intrusion ; but, Cyn, will you please
inform me if I am to stand all night loaded with
green stuff, like a farmer on a market day ?" at
this point the merry voice of Clem interrupted, as
he came hastily in, still bearing the burden Cyn
had piled upon him. Then becoming aware of Miss
Kling's presence, he added to her, " I beg pardon for
my abrupt entrance, but the outer door being open,
I made bold to enter;" then explanatory to Cyn,
" Your door was locked, as also was mine, of which

O. K.

247

Quimby has the key; and as Celeste has not yet
been able to part with him, there I have been standing in the hall, like patience with a load of
dandelions !"
" We were having such an interesting conversation," Cyn answered, with a scornful glance in
Miss Kling's direction, "that I quite forgot you and
the lapse of time."
Clem instantly became aware of something
amiss in the atmosphere, and glanced around inquiringly. Miss Kling immediately enlightened him.
" There are many things you make bold to do,
young man !" she said. "Putting telegraph apparatus in my house, for instance !"
"Ah !" exclaimed Clem, comprehensively.
" Yes ;" went on the aggrieved Miss Kling, " you
and that Quimby, I suppose, did it. The idea originated with you, of course. He hasn't brains
enough ; if he had he would not marry Celeste !"
and Miss Kling sniffed in utter contempt of poor
Quimby
" Thanks for the compliment to my intellectual
abilities !" said Clem with a mischievous look ; then
advancing towards her, he answered in his own
frank, manly way, " And so you have found us
out? But I trust you will not be offended with us ?
It is, after all, a trifle, and we said nothing about it

248

O. K.

merely because we wished to have a little mystery
of our own ! It was, as the newsboys would say,
a lark of ours !"
" Lark !" repeated Miss Kling, drawing herself
up stiffly ; "young man, you will oblige me by not
using slang in my presence !"
" Pardon me," said Clem, good humoredly;
" and in regard to the wire, blame me, if you must
blame any one. As you say, it was all my doing, and
I induced Miss Rogers to allow the wire to come
into her room."
"And I, too," added Gyn, propitiatingly, for
Nattie's sake, " I wished to learn the business, you
know !"
But Miss Kling would not propitiate.
" Miss Rogers, I have no doubt, wvas very ready
to be induced !" she said, with an effort at sarcasm.
" I have heard of young females so much in love
that they would run after and pursue young men,
but never before of one so carried away and so lost
to every sense of decorum, as to be obliged to have
a wire run from her room to his, in order to communicate with him at improper times !"
This accusation, far-fetched and ridiculous as it
was, yet being uttered in the presence of Clem,
overwhelmed poor Nattie, and she sank on the
lounge, burying her face in her hands, at which

O. K.

249

Clem made a hasty motion, and then, as if aware
any interference of his would only make matters
worse, checked himself. But Cyn came to the
front with striking effect.
" You ought, certainly, to be well informed on
the subject of old females who run after old men !"
she said, witheringly. " If one may believe what
the Tor—— what Mr. Fishblate says !"
This shot told. Miss Kling turned livid with
rage and mortification, and burst into a terrific
spasm of sneezing.
" Miss Rogers," she said, wrathfully, as soon as
she recovered sufficiently to speak, " your conduct
and that of your associates is such, that I can no
longer allow you to remain on my premises."
" Miss Kling, this is—-is very unjust," said the
agitated Nattie.
" It is against the wishes of her friends that she
has remained as long as she has," cried Cyn, hotly.
" Miss Kling, your proceedings are infamous!"
exclaimed Clem, not able to contain himself longer.
Rather afraid to draw out Cyn any more, Miss
Kling gladly seized this opportunity to attack Clem.
"Young man, what right have you to inferfere?"
she inquired, majestically.
Clem bit his lip. Sure enough, what right had

he?

250

O. K.

He glanced at Nattie where she sat, pale and disturbed, at the scene that threatened to end seriously
for her, and then, obeying a sudden impulse, seized
the key at his side, and called,
"N—N—N!"
Nattie looked up quickly, and while Miss
Kling, who supposed he was wantonly drumming
on the obnoxious instrument to exasperate her,
vented her indignation, and also the outraged feelings caused by the Torpedo-wound inflicted by Cyn,
still rankling, in a wrathful homily to which no one
listened, for Cyn was watching Clem curiously, he
wrote rapidly, his eyes on the sounder,
" She says I have no right to interfere. If you
had not so changed towards me—if I could hope
you loved me as I have ever loved you, I would ask
you to give me the right, and let me put this pernicious discredit to her sex on the other side of that
door !"
As these words in dots and dashes came to her
ears, Nattie, forgetting Miss Kling, forgetting everything, except that she loved Clem, and Clem declared—could it be possible—that he loved her,
arose hastily, with a quick joy suffusing her face,
and then their eyes met, and neither words or dots
and dashes were needed. Love, more potent than
electricity, required no interpreter, and that most

O. K.

251

powerful of all magnets drew them together. Before the face and eyes of the amazed Miss Kling,
who had just delivered herself of a sentence intended
to be crushing, and could not conceive why her
victim should suddenly look so happy over it, he
advanced to Nattie's side, clasped her hand eagerly
and tenderly, then turning to Miss Kling, said,
while Cyn, surmising the truth of the matter, embraced herself fervently,
" Miss Kling, any farther observations you may
have to make, you will be good enough to say to
me, hereafter ; and now, will you oblige me by leaving the room ?" and he politely held open the door.
" What ?" gasped Miss Kling, hardly believing
her own ears.
" I cannot allow you to annoy Miss Rogers, the
lady who is to be my wife !" Clem added ; "and if
she and I choose to have twelve telegraph wires, we
will. Let me bid you good-evening!" and he
pointed significantly at the open door.
"Your wife! Miss Rogers!" echoed the discomfited Miss Kling, and glanced at the blushing
Nattie, at Cyn, undisguisedly exultant, and at Clem,
determinedly waiting for her to go out. This was
something she had not expected, and it took her
aback. So, with a sneeze, she drew herself up, gave
a spiteful parting shot,

2

52

O. K.

" Well, she has worked hard enough to get you
—had to bring the telegraph to her assistance !"
and then retreated, before Cyn could retaliate with
the Torpedo. Retreated to her own room, to nurse
her wrath and envy, and to dream hopelessly, forever more, of that other self, never to come nearer
than now !
The discreet Cyn, comprehending that Miss
Kling had brought about that "crisis," and that
something had been said on the wire to the right
purpose, followed her out, and left them alone. It
is hardly necessary to mention, that as soon as the
door closed behind Cyn, Clem took Nattie in his
arms and: kissed her. It was an inevitable consequence.
" And now explain why you have treated me so,
you contrary little girl ?" he queried, tenderly.
" I thought," Nattie replied, raising her gray
eyes, from which the shadows were all gone now, to
his, "that you loved Cyn."
" You did !" he said, surprised and reproachful;
" a n d that is why you have been so cold and distant ! How could you ?"
"But Cyn is so handsome, and—I do not see
how you could help it!" pleaded Nattie in self-extenuation.
" Of course she is handsome, talented, brilliant,

O. K.

253

fascinating, everything that is nice/' Clem answered, "but," in a low voice, " Cyn was not my
little girl at B m !"
Of course, after this there was another inevitable
consequence, and then Clem asked,
"And did you care because you imagined—you
naughty, jealous girl—that I loved Cyn ?"
"Yes," Nattie answered, blushing, but honestly,
" I was very unhappy, indeed I was, Clem ! I think
I loved you from the first—when you were invisible,
you know !"
" And I," said Clem, " should have given myseli
up a victim to despair^ like Quimby, if it had not
been for one thing. Jo made me a duplicate of
that picture you destroyed, and the fact that you
never even mentioned the Cupid overhead gave me
hope !" and his own roguish look was in his eyes as
he saw Nattie's confusion, and laughing his merry
laugh, he clasped her in his arms.
" I beg pardon," said Cyn tapping, and entering
after a cautious interval, " But I come to inquire if
Nat—I mean Nathalie—still thinks, as she did an hour
ago, that Clem and I are just suited to each other ?"
Nattie laughed and blushed.
" You see I set my heart on this from the beginning," said Cyn to Clem, not thinking it necessary
to define to what " this " referred. " It was such

254

O. K.

a perfect romance, you know ! and she has been
frightening me by declaring that you were in love
with me, and was so positive that she almost made me
believe it, notwithstanding my natural sagacity !"
" As I certainly should have been," replied Clem
gallantly, " only for a prior attachment. You see, I
loved Nattie before ever I saw you ! Why, I used to
pass the most of my time when at X n in wondering
what she was like, and wishing—I was as near her
as I am now, for instance. And how miserable I
was, when she dropped me so suddenly! and how
happy I was when I came upon her at that blessed
feast, and the red hair was all explained away. And
then came another cross on the circuit of my true
love."
" And had it not been for that dear Betsey Kling
with her invectives we should have been mixed,
and not had a cue now !" exclaimed Cyn. " I declare, I could hug her !"
But Betsey Kling not being available just then,
she substituted Nattie, and gave her a most emphatic squeeze.
" It was your shot about the Torpedo that
finished her, Cyn," laughed Clem.
" It 'was effective, I flatter myself," Cyn confessed. " And that reminds me, you must not stay
here now, Nat, you know; so I have seen Mrs.

O. K.

255

Simonson, and you are going to live with me—for
the present "—glancing archly at her, " until that
book is written, for instance."
" And it will be written, now, I know!" said
Nattie, earnestly, her eyes shining. " Y o u - r e member what you once said, Cyn ? I see now you
were right."
" Yes ;" said Cyn, seriously, "and thank Heaven
that it was love, and not disappointment, that came !"
" Love shall not come in vain !" Nattie said, as
seriously. " I will be worthy of it !"
The after years only could prove her words.
But in Clem's face the belief in them was written
as plainly as if those future possibilities were
acknowledged results.
" W e must have another feast to celebrate
events!" Cyn said then, gayly. "You are happy ;
my romance is O. K. ; Celeste is ecstatic ; Quimby
as joyful as circumstances permit the victim of mistake to be ; Jo and I are hopeful of future fame—
and wTe certainly must have a feast !"
" With plenty of dishes this time," laughed Clem,
" and there shall be no more crosses on the wire !"
" But bless my heart !" ejaculated Cyn, " here
you two are making love like ordinary mortals "—
at this Nattie hastily withdrew the hand Clem had
taken—" Quimby and Celeste, for instance ! This

256

O. K.

will never do ! We must end this romance of dots
and dashes as it commenced, to make it truly
* Wired Love !' "
"True enough! so we must!" answered Clem
merrily, and rising, he went to the " key/' with his
eyes looking straight into Nattie's, and wrote something that made her blush and seize his hand in shy
and unnecessary alarm, saying,
" Suppose Jo should be over in your room ! He
might be able to read it !"
" Very well," replied Clem, as he laughed and
kissed her, regardless of the spectator. "I am
quite content to make love like common mortals,
Cyn, and I hope, my darling Nattie, that we are
done now with all 'breaks' and •crosses,' as we
are with Wired Love. Henceforth ours shall be
the pure, unalloyed article, genuine love !"
And Nattie, half-laughing, half-serious, but
wholly glad, took the key and wrote,
" O. K."
If any one is anxious to know what Clem wrote
when Nattie stopped him, here it is.

THE END.