ould 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?'"

"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."

"And 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 passing 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 hims