Clem picked up his blacking-brush, and very deliberately smeared the boot he had just polished, with another coat of blacking, before answering. "How can I tell you?" he said at last. "You don't suppose proposing is an every-day habit of mine, do you? My dear boy, I never proposed in my life!" "But you--you ought to--I mean you will sometime, you know! Just give me a--a start, you know!" pleaded Quimby, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Shall I call her and propose for you?" inquired Clem, somewhat ironically, and glancing at the sounder. "No--no--I--_No!_" cried Quimby in great alarm at this proposition. "She might think you meant yourself, you know!" "In which case the rejection would be sure!" said Clem. Then flinging his brush savagely into a corner, he added as he went out, "You must settle it yourself, old fellow! No one can help us in those matters. There is no duplex!" Quimby was therefore left to his own devices; and his own devices brought about a most extraordinary result. That same evening, Nattie coming over to Cyn's room, and finding her absent, sat down to await her return, which Mrs. Simonson assured her would be very soon. There was no gas lighted, and in the dusk Nattie remained, feeling, perhaps, an affinity with the somber shadows of the twilight. As she sat musing, now wishing "C" had left her life forever when he left it with the odors of musk and bear's-grease about him, and now despising herself for the weakness she found it so hard to overcome, she became conscious of a denser shadow in the shadows of the open door. "I--I beg pardon. Is it Cyn?" asked this shadow, in the voice of Quimby. "No," Nattie replied, "Cyn is out." "I--I beg pardon. Is it _you_?" the shadow asked with accents of delight. Nattie acknowledged the "you." "And you--you are alone?" Nattie glanced around the room hoping the Duchess had strayed in, so she might truthfully say no. But she was compelled to reply in the affirmative. "Glorious opportunity--I--it must not be wasted! I--I will explain, you know!" he exclaimed, excitedly and incoherently. But to Nattie's surprise, instead of entering, he darted away in such a tremendous hurry that he stumbled and fell, and she distinctly heard his skull bang against his own door.