"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 sweetmeats. "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." 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--not" desperately, "really fallen in love with him, have you?" Nattie's eyes danced with amusement, but her color deepened slightly too, as she replied, "How 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. "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 chair-back; 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.