o 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 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 you know
we--that is, Mrs. Simonson, was going to have a new lodger?"

"No, 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.

"It 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 fee