you know, but a
mental one!" and he relaxed his grasp on the chair with one hand to tug
at his necktie as if being hung, and disliking the sensation.

"That is something I never heard of," Nattie said dryly; then thinking,
"I'll drown him in music," she asked hastily,

"Do you like the First Kiss?"

The bounce of an India rubber ball is no comparison to the agility with
which Quimby jumped from his chair at this question.

"Oh! Bless my soul! Wouldn't I?" he gasped.

"I will play it to you," exclaimed Nattie instantly aware of the
indiscretion of her question, and she thundered as loud as she could on
the piano, while Quimby, with a very red face, subsided into the chair
again. But not long did he remain subsided; whether it was the music
that inspired im, or a desperate determination that nerved him, he
suddenly sprang up, and with one stride was beside her, exclaiming
excitedly,

"No! That is--I beg pardon--but please do not play any more just now.
There is something I must say to you! Oh! I can't express myself! It all
comes upon me with a rush when I am alone, but now, at this supreme
moment, I cannot tell you how I a--"

"Excuse me, but I am afraid I cannot remain now," hastily interrupted
Nattie, feeling that something must be done to stop him, and adopting
the first expedient that suggested itself. "I just happened to recollect
I left my gas burning in close proximity to the lace curtains, and I
must go immediately and attend to it."

With these words, Nattie rushed away, half amused and half annoyed,
leaving him to stare after her with a blank and rueful face, to ask
himself how any fellow could get on amid such drawbacks, to decide that
proposing was a dreadful strain on the nerves, but to resolve his next
attempt should be a success, if he had to inaugurate previously a series
of private rehearsals. For although abashed and discomfited by his
repeated failures to make his feelings understood, he was more in love
than ever.

CHAPTER VI.

COLLAPSE OF THE ROMANCE.

"B m--B m--B m--N--N--N--Oh! where are you, N? Where is the little girl at
B m--B m--B m?"

Such were the sounds that greeted Nattie's ears, as she entered the
office the morning after her adventure with the love-lorn Quimby; and
immediately she ceased to speculate on the probable embarrassment that
must necessarily attend their not-to-be-avoided next meeting, and
interrupted "C's" solitary conversation, by saying,

"What is