"I do not just comprehend your meaning, dear, but it may be you think I might not quite like the idea, on account of that--that first affair on the wire. If so, dismiss the thought. You and Clem are suited to each other, and--" Nattie stopped, unable to continue. Cyn, who had been beating the innocent pillow, as if it was the cause of all this, while Nattie was speaking, now threw it across the room, as she exclaimed. "Oh! the perversity of human nature! Oh! you degenerate girl! As if I cared for Clem in that way! Have I not from the first set my heart on this real-life romance ending in the only way it could rightfully end?" A sudden light came into Nattie's face, but it died away in a moment. "Then you do not care for him? Poor Clem!" she said, in a low voice. "Poor Clem, indeed!" cried Cyn, pacing the floor excitedly. "I cannot--no, I cannot--believe it of him! He certainly has sagacity enough not to run his head against a beam in broad daylight, even--" "If Jo had not," she was about to add, but checked herself suddenly. Not for the world would she betray Jo's confidence. What had passed between them to-day should be a secret always, never again to be mentioned--but never forgotten in the friendship and companionship of after years. "You must be very difficult to suit, dear, if you do not like Clem!" said Nattie, with unconscious significance, after waiting in vain for Cyn to finish her sentence. "It is not that," replied Cyn, somewhat sadly. "Do you not know I have only one love,--music?" "Poor Clem!" again said Nattie, from the depths of her tender heart. "For I know he loves you, dear. He could not help it, who could?" Such words would have been sweet to the vanity of an ordinary woman. But on Cyn they had a very opposite effect. "Things have come to a pretty pass if one can not laugh and joke, and enjoy one's self with friends without being made love to!" she said, annoyed. Then looking scrutinizingly at Nattie, she asked, "And you--did you really wish Clem and I might love each other?" Nattie played nervously with the fringe of her dress, hesitated, then replied in a low tone, "I fear I did not, Cyn!" "Then it may come right yet!" exclaimed Cyn, hopefully. Nattie shook her head. "And he loving you? Oh, no!" she said. "I shall never be able to say O.K. to what you term your romance of the dots and dashes, Cyn. In fact, I have made up my mind that there are some people born to go through life missing both its best and its worst, and that I am one!" "Pray, do not say that!" urged Cyn, too disturbed to bring her easy philosophy to bear on the situation. "Of all things, do not get morbid." "But it is the truth!" persisted Nattie. "Even my name, for instance, proves it! I was christened Nathalie, a very fine poetic name. But, in all my life no one ever called me by it! I was always mediocre Nattie!"