by the hand, Cyn and Nattie gave exclamations of pleasure, and Quimby suddenly started into life. "I—I beg pardon," he said, hastily, "but I—I really—I though you said you had rather be farther down town, you know."
"Yes, that was my first inclination, but as you urged me so much, and as I find so many old friends here, I have concluded to accept your offer, my boy, so consider the matter settled," replied Clem.
And in his own entire satisfaction and unconsciousness, Clem did not observe but what Quimby looked as happy as might be expected, at this intelligence.
"'Oh, won't we have a jolly time,'" sang Cyn, and Clem, Nattie and Jo—but not Quimby—took up the chorus.
And obtuse as he was, Quimby could not but observe that Nattie's eyes were shining in a way he had never seen them shine before, that the evercoming and going flush on her cheeks was very becoming, and that there was an expression in her face, when she looked at Clem, that face had never held for him. Nor could he fail to think, that the romantic commencement of the acquaintance of these two, even the episode of the musk-scented impostor, all now enhanced the interest Nattie had once felt for the invisible "C;" neither did he need a
