"Yes; because you have curly hair! You remember what I said on the wire, via Nat?"
"Could I forget?" he replied, gallantly.
"And it isn't a dream! You are 'C,' the real 'C,'" replied Cyn, pinching herself, and then seizing Nattie, who, from the suddenness of it all was yet in a semi-bewildered state—there was not a bit of unhappiness in it, though—waltzed ecstatically around the room, crying, "Oh! I am so glad! I am so glad!"
At this point Quimby, who, during the preceding explanation had listened with a face illustrating every variety of consternation and dismay, attracted attention to himself by an audible groan, observing which, he muttered something about his "wound"—the word had a double meaning for him then, poor fellow!—and rising, came forward, took his friend by the shoulder, and asked, solemnly,
"Now, Clem—I—I beg pardon—but is it—is this all true, and—and not one of your jokes, you know? Honestly, are you that—that 'C'?"
"Here is a doubting Thomas for you!" cried Clem, gayly. "But, upon my word of honor, old boy, I truly and honestly am 'that C,' and I suppose you were the 'other visitor of no consequence,' who called with Miss Archer that day I was favored
