"Why are you so thoughtful to-night?" Clem asked Nattie, as they walked down their street behind the rest, in the wake of Jo's gayety and Celeste's meaningless giggle. Celeste was clinging to the arm of the unwilling, but helpless Quimby, and chatting of the handsome tenor. With a slight start, Nattie replied to Clem's question, "I do not know. Am I?" "Yes; you have hardly spoken a word all the way. Is anything the trouble?" asked Clem, and she, looking moodily oh the ground, did not see the anxiety in his eyes as he spoke. "Nothing!" she replied; then startled him by bursting out passionately, "I am tired of living with no object; with nothing but a daily routine. Can it be there is no better place in the world for me? That my life must be always thus? I _cannot_ be contented!" Clem stopped short and stared at her agitated face. "I never knew you were not happy, Nattie," he said, gently. "Oh! I am not unhappy; I am only discontented," Nattie replied. "You are somewhat contradictory in your statements," said Clem, as they went on again, for she also had stopped. "Is it office troubles that annoy you? Poor little girl, it _is_ a monotonous life!" Nattie flushed at the tenderness in his voice. "That is one thing," she replied, a little tremblingly, "but I want something to work for, as Cyn has. I am ambitious; my present position can never content me; I am haunted all the time by an uneasy consciousness that if I was smart I should be doing something to get ahead; and yet, I don't know what to do!" "I remember you once said something about becoming a writer; why not try that?" suggested Clem. They had reached their own landing at the hotel, and paused. The remainder of the party had disappeared. "It seems so hopeless," Nattie answered, dispiritedly; "there is no opening anywhere." "But it will never do to wait for that, you know. If the world is a closed oyster, we must open it. Isn't that the way Cyn did?" said Clem, half surmising the realization of the difference between Cyn's brilliant success and her own plodding along that had caused her dejection; and as he spoke, he took her hand in his, but Nattie snatched it quickly away. "Ah! Cyn!" she said in sudden and uncontrollable jealousy, "of course _you_ could never expect me to compare with her!" Clem looked at her a moment, then some emotion flushed his face, and he would have spoken had not Miss Kling, disgusted with her inability to catch a word from inside, opened her door, saying sharply, "Are you coming in, Miss Rogers?" "Certainly," Nattie replied quickly, and already ashamed of her jealous outburst. "Good night, Clem." "But will you not come over and congratulate Cyn on her success?" he asked, detaining her. "I heard a carriage just stop, and think she is in it." "Not to-night; to-morrow," said Nattie, hastily, and left him before he could again urge the request.