Carl Brickermann, a collection clerk in an uptown bank, in his accustomed daily routine found it necessary, among other things, to call by telephone the downtown brokerage firm of Hopegood & Co. One day he missed the familiar feminine voice which had usually responded to his calls. But the new voice seemed sweeter and much more passionately penetrating. For two or three days Brickermann was puzzled, not only because of the change at the other end of the ’phone, but also because of the strange and unaccountable fascination which the new voice possessed for him. At length one day, almost in desperation, he turned aside from his regular business inquiries to ask: “Where’s the other girl?” “Which other girl?” asked the mellifluous voice over the articulate wire. “The one who used to answer the ’phone for the Hopegoods,” explained Brickermann. “Promoted,” came the response, with a merry little laugh. “And you have her old place?” asked Brickermann, somewhat encouraged. “Yes; for awhile,” said the same still, small voice at the other end, and it sounded more and more sweetly to the would-be masher. “Well,” said Brickermann, laughing the while, “I used to know her quite well, and I should like to meet you face to face, if you don’t mind, I am so charmed with the music of your voice I am sure I should be perfectly entranced with the magic of your face.” [Illustration: “IS ER-ER-MR. HOPEGOOD IN?”] A merry peal of laughter from the other end greeted this sally. The young man continued: “I used to come down some days about four o’clock to see Margie. Will you, my Unseen Charmer, grant me the same high favor?” “Why, certainly! Come any day,” answered the sweet voice which had so strangely bewitched the young man. In ecstasy Brickermann shouted back: “I’ll be down this afternoon.” Brickermann hung up the receiver, and, chuckling with delight, he turned to his other duties with the alacrity that a young spring chicken displays when it suddenly discovers a big fat worm.