At this moment the cord, on which through inadvertence I had leaned somewhat too heavily, gave way, and down came the curtain with a squash to the floor. She sprang back with a bound, and, while a slight but momentary blush flushed her cheek, stared at me half angrily, and then cried out,--“Well, I hope you like me?” “Yes, that I do,” said I, readily;--“and who wouldn't that saw you?” Whether it was the naivete of my confession, or my youth, or both, I can't well say, but she laughed heartily at my speech, and threw herself into a chair to indulge her mirth. “So we were neighbors, it seems,” said I. “And if we were,” said she, roguishly, “I think it's a very unceremonious way you 've opened the acquaintance.” “You forget, apparently, I haven't left my own territory.” “Well, I 'm sure I wish you would, if you 're any good at a black knot; my heart and my nails are both broke with one here.” I didn't wait for any more formal invitation, but stepped at once over the frontier; while she, rising from the chair, turned her back towards me, as with her finger she directed me to the most chaotic assemblage of knots, twists, loops, and entanglements I ever beheld. “And you're Burke, I suppose,” cried she, as I commenced my labors. “Yes; I'm Burke.” “Well, I hope you 're done with wildness by this time. Uncle Tony tells fine tales of your doings.” “Uncle Tony! So you 're Mr. Basset's niece? Is that--” “You did n't take me for his wife, I hope?” said she, again bursting out into laughter. “In truth, I never thought so well of him as to suppose it.” “Well, well, I 'm sure it 's little I expected you to look so mild and so quiet. But you need n't pinch me, for all that. Is n't your name Tom?” “Yes; I hope you 'll always call me so.” “Maybe I will. Is n't that done yet? And there 's the milk bell. Uncle will be in a nice passion if I 'm not down soon. Cut it,--cut it at once.” “Now do be patient for a minute or two; it's all right if you stay quiet. I 'll try my teeth on it.” “Yes; but you needn't try your lips too,” said she, tartly. “Why, it 's the only plan to get your fingers out of the way. I 'm sure I never was so puzzled in all my life.” “Nothing like practice, my boy,--nothing,” cried a merry voice from the door behind me, half choked with laughing; while a muttered anathema, in a deeper tone, followed. I looked back, and there stood Bubbleton, his face florid with laughter, endeavoring to hold back Mr. Basset, whose angry look and flashing eye there was no mistaking. “Mr. Burke,--Burke, I say! Nelly, what does this mean? How came this young gentleman--” “As to that,” said I, interrupting him, and my blood somewhat chafed by his manner, “this piece of trumpery tumbled down when I leaned my arm on it. I had no idea--”