"Except, perhaps, on the wire, as you said just now!" he suggested. "You have caught her now!" said Cyn gayly, as she peeled an orange. "But you will never do even that again, will you, Nat?" "One such experience is quite enough for me," Nattie replied. "Still, the next one might not have red hair, or smell of musk!" Jo remarked. "He might be even worse, though!" interposed the penitent on the stool. With a strangely puzzled look, Mr. Stanwood glanced from one to the other, observing which, Cyn said, "You don't understand, of course. May I tell him, Nat?" "Ah! well--yes!" Nattie replied with an air of vexed resignation. "I suppose I may as well make up my mind to be laughed at on account of that story forever and a day." "I am as much of a victim as you, for I was intensely interested in the unknown," laughed Cyn; then turning to Mr. Stanwood, she went on. "It appears telegraph operators have a way of talking together over the wire, knowing little about each other, and nothing at all of their mutual personal appearance. In this manner, Nat became acquainted with a young man whom she knew as 'C,' and grew, to speak mildly, interested in him--Now, Nat, you know you did--and so, as I remarked previously, did I--we were introduced over the wire. In fact, he seemed everything that was nice and agreeable, and if we did not actually fall in love with him--you see, I am sharing your glory all I can, Nat--it is a wonder." "If this 'C' knew the impression he made on two young ladies, he would certainly feel complimented," Mr. Stanwood, who was playing with his knife and fork, here interrupted. "Fortunately, he never really knew," replied Cyn, while Nattie looked somewhat gloomily at her goblet of coffee, in memory of the romance that collapsed. "To continue this ower true tale!--Thus far all was mysterious, enchanting, romantic. But now comes the dark sequel. One day 'C' called--bodily." Mr. Stanwood started and looked quickly up at Nattie, who, without observing his glance, murmured contemptuously, "Odious creature!" At this he turned with a perplexed look again to Cyn, who proceeded. "Yes, an odious creature he proved to be. Only think, he had red hair, and dreadful teeth, smelt of musk, wore cheap jewelry, and, in short, was decidedly vulgar!" "What!" exclaimed Mr. Stanwood, staring at her as if he thought she was bereft of her senses. "What!" and he dropped his knife and fork, and pushed his chair back violently, to the alarm of the Duchess, who was immediately behind. Cyn appeared astonished at his vehemence; but Nattie, too occupied with thoughts of this newly-revived grievance to observe it, repeated, "Red hair, all bear's grease, and everything to match!" "Do you mean to tell me," Mr. Stanwood asked, looking at her earnestly, and speaking with great energy, "that a person, such as you describe, called on you and represented himself to be 'C'?"