But his last words were too ominous, and she was too well acquainted with his peculiarities to flatter herself she was permanently relieved of his company. He had perhaps gone to brush his hair, or take some quieting drops, but she knew he had certainly not gone to stay, and not being exactly in the humor for his company, Nattie resolved to fly ignominiously. Afraid of returning to her own room, lest she might meet him and be taken captive, she quietly retired into Cyn's bed-room. In a few moments she heard him stumbling over a stool in the parlor, and was just thinking that if he should take it into his head to remain any length of time, she would be in rather a predicament, when to her surprise she heard him say, "I--I must speak! I--I hope this time I shall remember what I have so often--so often said in the privacy of my own apartment, to--if I may confess it--to a pillow--a pair of pants and a coat--placed in a chair as a poor effigy of--of you, you know. Will you--will you--don't speak, but let me alone, hear me and let the--the flow of language come!" He paused, and in the greatest bewilderment, Nattie stared at the opposite wall. Did he by some powerful intuition discern she was within hearing distance, or was he in his disappointment rehearsing to her empty chair? Before Nattie could decide between these two solutions of his conduct, another voice, the voice of Celeste, said faintly and affectedly, "Oh, Quimby" And then Nattie comprehended the situation. After her own retreat, Celeste had entered and taken the just vacated chair. It was twilight. Celeste wore a black dress like hers, her hair was dressed in the same style, and was the same color, and Quimby had mistaken her for Nattie! And in his excitement and struggle with that "flow of language," he did not notice even that it was not Nattie's voice saying "Oh, Quimby!" for he continued, "I--I--you may reject me--I am afraid you will, but I must say it, you know. I must, or I shall--I shall explode and fly into atoms!" Here Celeste gave a little scream, but he went on determinedly, making the most of his "glorious opportunity." "I--I am not like other fellows, you know! that is, I mean I have not the--the brass, if I may so express myself, and I am always doing something wrong--but I am used to it, you know--the question is, could you get used to it? for I have a heart that is--that is honest, and that beats all full of love--of--love for--you know who I mean!" There was a murmured "oh!" from Celeste, as Quimby paused to wipe from his brow the perspiration called forth by his arduous undertaking. "What shall I do!" frantically thought the perplexed listener, divided between the ludicrous part of the affair, and her desire to save him from the dilemma into which he was rushing; "what _can_ I do? oh! if Cyn would only come!" But Cyn came not, and while Nattie paused, irresolute, and not knowing what course to take, Quimby went on to his fate.