"A little girl at B m was dreadfully sold one day!"

The album Nattie held fell from her hands as she stared petrified at her
_vis-a-vis_, who kept his eyes on his book with the most innocent
expression imaginable, one that even a Chinaman could not have equaled.
Where could he have heard those words, once so familiar? A moment's
thought gave her the most probable key.

"You are in the main office of this city, and have heard me talking with
'C'!" she wrote, as fast as the scissors would let her.

"No, to the first of your surmise," came from the pencil, "and yes to
the last."

"What office were you in?" the scissors asked.

"X n," responded the pencil.

"What! with 'C'?" asked the scissors, and if ever there was a pair of
excited scissors, these were the ones.

"Well--yes," replied the pencil with provoking slowness. "Don't you
'_C_' the point? Can't you 'C' that you did not 'C' the 'C' you thought
you did 'C' that day?"

Nattie's breath came fast, and her hand trembled so she could not hold
the scissors. With a crash they dropped on the table, making one loud,
long dash. But the imperturbable pencil went on calmly,

"It was all a mistake. I am--'C'!"

Disdaining scissors and pencil, Nattie started up, exclaiming
vehemently,

"What do you mean? it can't be possible!"

The consternation of Cyn, who was just informing Quimby that his wound
would do very well now, the horror of the patient, and the surprise of
Jo Norton at this emphatic and unaccountable outburst from the hitherto
so silent Nattie was indescribable.

"Good gracious, Nat! what in the world is the matter?" cried Cyn,
starting up and bringing the bottle of liniment she held in violent
contact with Quimby's head, a circumstance that even the victim did not
notice, so absorbed was he in amazement.

At Nattie's exclamation, Mr. Stanwood threw aside his book, pencil, and
innocent countenance together, and regardless of any one but her, sprang
to his feet, advanced with both hands extended, and shining eyes,
saying,

"I mean just what I said, it is possible!"

Hardly knowing what she did, utterly confused and bewildered, Nattie
placed her hand in the two that clasped it, while Cyn stared with
distended eyes, Quimby with wide-open mouth, and Jo gave a long whistle.
Cyn was first to recover, and began to scold.

"Well," she exclaimed, "this _is_ a pretty piece of business, never yet
played on any stage, I should think! Nat, will you, or will s