CHAPTER VII.
"GOOD-BY."
It was a very long face that Nattie carried to the Hotel Norman thatnight; so long that Miss Kling at once saw that something was amiss, andwhile curiously wondering as to the cause, took a grim satisfaction inthe fact. For Miss Kling liked not to see cheerful faces; why shouldothers be happy when she had not found her other self?
Nattie's first act on gaining her own room was to drag forth thatcarefully-preserved pen and ink sketch, and tear it to atoms,annihilating the chubby Cupid with especial care.
"And now," she thought to herself savagely, as she burned up the pieces,"I never will be interested in people again, unless I know all aboutthem. Imagination is too dangerous a guide for me!"
Having thus exterminated the illustrated edition of her romance, Nattiefelt the necessity of unburdening her mind, her sorrow not being toodeep for words, and with that object sought Cyn; a proceeding muchdisapproved of by Miss Kling, who, knowing well that weakness of humannature that seeks a friendly bosom wherein to repose its sorrows,rightly surmised her lodger's destination and design, and decidedlyobjected to any one knowing more than she herself did.
Nattie found her friend at home, but to her vexation, not alone. Withher was Quimby, who had called in the untold hope of gleaning tidings ofthe young lady who had--as he said to himself--floored him. Hisconfusion at the sight of her, remembering as he did the somewhatunusual circumstances of their last meeting, was indescribable; indeed,his knees actually knocked together. Nattie, however, whose latestexperience had effaced the effect, and almost the remembrance of thatformer one, bade him good-evening, without the least trace ofconsciousness or embarrassment, a composure of manner that astounded butat the same time filled him with admiration.
As he did not take his departure, being, in fact, unable to tear himselfaway, Nattie, in her anxiety to tell Cyn all that was in her mind, andreflecting that he really was of no consequence--an argument notflattering to its object, but one that he probably would have been firstto indorse had he known it--and, moreover, that he already knew theprologue, disregarded his presence and said,
"The most incomprehensible thing has happened, Cyn! I cannot realize iteven now!"
Quimby quaked in his boots, and grew hot all over with the fear that shewas going to relate their last evening's adventure. Could it bepossible?
"I knew that something was the matter the moment you entered the room,"said Cyn. "I cannot imagine, why you should look as if you were goinginto the grave-digging business!"
"Ah, Cyn!" exclaimed Nattie, as if the words hurt her, "He--'C', calledon me to-day!"
Quimby gave a bounce, and then grew limp in all his joints.
"Is it possible? Personally?" questioned Cyn, with great interest andanimation then glancing at Nattie's face, her tone changed as sheadded, "He was not what you thought! I understand, poor Nat!"
Quimby straightened himself up. He fancied he saw a gleam of hope ahead.
"Far enough from what I thought!" replied Nattie, with a mixture ofpathos and disgust. "Why did he not remain invisible?" then, in a burstof disappointment-- "Cyn, he is simply awful! All red hair and grease,musk, cheap jewelry, and insolent assurance!"
Quimby glanced in the opposite glass, and his face brightened all over.He felt like a new man!
"Oh, dear! Is it as bad as that?" said Cyn, looking dismayed. "He was soentertaining on the wire, I can hardly believe it. Are you quite sure itwas 'C'?"
"I could not realize it myself, but it is a fact nevertheless," Nattieanswered sorrowfully, and then related what she termed the "disgustingdetails." Cyn listened, vexed and sorry, for she too had becomeinterested in the invisible "C," but Quimby found it impossible torestrain his joy at this complete overthrow of one whom he had everconsidered a formidable rival.
"It is no use to talk about romance in real life!" said the annoyed Cyn,yielding to the conviction that the obnoxious visitor really was "C," asNattie concluded. "It is nice to read about and to enact on the stage,but it's altogether too unreliable for our solid, every-day world. Well,dear!" consolingly, "it's better to know the truth than to have gone onblindly talking to so undesirable an acquaintance!"
"Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise," quoted Nattie, with ashrug of her shoulders. "But--yes--I suppose I--ought to be glad I knowthe worst."
"I--I beg pardon, but I--I think I hinted it might be as it has proved,you know!" said Quimby, trying not to look triumphant, and failingsignally.
Not particularly pleased at having his superior discernment thus pointedout, Nattie replied rather shortly,
"It was luck and chance anyway, and it was my luck to stumble on themost disagreeable specimen in the business. That is all."
"Do you suppose he is aware of the impression he produced on you?" askedCyn.
"No, indeed!" Nattie replied scornfully. "Is there anything so blind asvulgar, ignorant, self-conceit? I have no doubt he thinks I wascharmed!"
"Then how will you manage when he wants to talk on the wire again?"asked Cyn.
"I shall have to make excuses until he takes the hint. Oh, dear!" saidNattie with a sigh, "I believe it is impossible to get any comfort outof this world!"
"Oh, no, it isn't!" said Cyn in her bright cheery manner. "The way to dois not to allow ourselves to fret over what we cannot help. I am almostas disappointed as you, dear, over this total collapse of what opened sointerestingly; but the curtain has fallen on the ignominious last act ofour little drama, so farewell--a long farewell to our wired romance!"
As Cyn spoke, the somewhat unmusical voice of Jo Norton was heard in thehall, singing an air from a popular burlesque, followed by theappearance among them of Jo himself. Of course the whole story had to berelated for his benefit, and very little sympathy did Nattie receivefrom him.
"Let this teach you a lesson, young lady!" he said, with mock solemnity,"namely, Attend to your business and let romance alone!"
"As you do!" said Cyn.
"As I do," he echoed, "and consequently be happy as I am! I tell you,romance and sentiment and love, and all that bosh, are at the bottom oftwo-thirds of all the misery in the world!"
Notwithstanding which sage remark, and the fact of the curtain havingfallen on the end, as Cyn said, for a moment yesterday was as if it hadnever been, when Nattie entered her office the next morning and wasgreeted with the familiar,
"B m--B m--B m--where is my little girl at B m, to say good-morning tome?" and she made an involuntary movement towards the key to respond inthe usual way.
The remembrance of the actual state of things checked her just in time,and then, with a rather uncertain and tremulous touch of the key sheanswered,
"Good morning! wait--am busy!"
"One untruth!" she thought to herself, as "C" became mute, "not the onlyone I shall have to tell, I fear, before I succeed in conveying my exactmeaning to the understanding of--the person. I will pick a quarrel, ifpossible, and he persists in talking! Oh, dear! I could have endured thered hair, even those dreadful teeth, had it not been for thebear's-grease and general vulgarity of the creature. Well, it's all overnow!" and she sighed, from which it may be inferred that Jo'sadmonitions had not been of much consolation to her.
We do not take the lessons our experience teaches us, to heartimmediately; first, their bitterness must be overcome.
To Nattie's great relief, the wire happened to be very busy thatmorning, but whenever it was possible "C" called her, and called invain.
Immediately after her return from dinner, however, having just receivedand signed for a message, "C," the moment she closed her key, said,
"Where have you been to-day? are you not glad to have me back again? itcannot be I am so soon forgotten?"
Unable to avoid answering, Nattie responded on the wrong side of truthagain. "Have been busy; wait, please, a customer here."
"I cannot help saying, confound the luck!" "C" responded, savagely. Towhich anathema Nattie turned up her nose scornfully, and made no reply.
The nervous dread of his "calling," that was upon her all day, causedher to make more blunders than she had ever done in all her telegraphiccareer. She gave wrong change continually, numbered her messagesincorrectly, and "broke" so much that the operator who sent to her had aheadache with ill-humor. Usually very quick at deciphering the illegiblescrawls often handed her for transmission, she to-day was frowned at forher stupidity in making them out; and one lady to whom a message wassent through poor Nattie's office, was much exercised on receiving it,to learn over an unknown gentleman's signature, that he would be withher at midnight. He really was her husband, but Nattie had transmittedthe name the writing looked most like, which was one very remote fromthe real one.
All these mistakes she laid at "C's" door, and grew more disgusted withhim, accordingly, especially when she counted her cash, and foundherself a dollar short. She managed, however, by frequent excuses, toget along without holding any conversation with him until the latterpart of the afternoon, when, the wire not being in use, and businessslacking up, he called persistently, savagely, and entreatingly--all ofwhich phases can be expressed in dots and dashes--interspersing the callwith such expressions as,
"Please answer, N! Where are you, N? Why will you treat thus a poorfellow who thinks so much of you?"
"I should think he might take a hint! Must I tell him in plain wordsthat a personal inspection leads me to decline the honor of fartheracquaintance? when, too, he particularly requested me not to mention hisvisit, over the wire?" thought Nattie; and then, as he continued tocall, she arose impatiently, and answered shortly,
"B m!"
"You naughty little girl!" immediately responded "C," "where have youbeen all day? Is it thus you treat me on my return, when I expected youwould be glad to see me again?"
"I have been busy," Nattie replied briefly, with a repetition of herplatitude, and cringing at the same time over the first of his remark,as she recalled his _tout ensemble_.
"So you have said every time I have called," "C" answered, apparentlyentirely unconscious of the possible reason. "What is the cause? Younever used to be busy _always_, you know!"
"How different he is on the wire from what he is in reality!" thoughtNattie, with a return of her first disappointment, "and how hard it isto merge the two in one!" But she answered,
"There is a first time for everything; besides, I have not felt liketalking to-day."
"Not with me?" queried "C."
"No!" replied Nattie briefly, and to the point.
"C" held his key open a moment.
"I do not understand it," he said at last. "It isn't possible that Ihave done anything to offend you?"
"Only offended me with the sight of you!" thought Nattie; but unwillingto be really impolite, replied, "Certainly not!"
"You are not angry about yesterday, are you?" pursued "C."
"Certainly not," repeated Nattie, adding to herself, "A faint idea thatI did not exactly fall in love with you is creeping into your red head,is it?"
"If I have done anything, I beg you to tell me what, for I am ignorantof it, and I assure you I am penitent, and that I forgive you!"continued "C," "only please don't be cross to me!"
Nattie saw her opportunity for picking a quarrel, and seized it.
"I do not know what you mean by my being cross!" she said. "I am sure Iwas not aware that I was obliged to talk to any one unless I felt likeit. I am not in the mood to-day, and I will not be forced. You have noright to call me cross, and when I am in the humor to talk with youagain I will let you know!"
"Very well!" "C" replied promptly, undoubtedly angry himself now; "Iwill wait your pleasure!" and then was mute.
"It has not been quite so gradual as I intended, but I think I haveeffectually settled the matter, and my mind is relieved," thoughtNattie; yet she sighed, and her satisfaction was followed by depression,for with "C" departed the pleasantest part of her office life, a factshe could not disguise. In the week that followed, when "C," true to hisword, waited, saying nothing, she missed continually the sympathy, the gaytalk, the companionship that had made the constantly-occurringannoyances endurable, and the days that dragged so now seem short. Theoffice business did not fill half her time, and the constant confinementbegan to be irksome to her, whose nature demanded activity; inconsequence, she often grew impatient and answered unnecessary questionsof customers with a shortness that gave considerable offence; and had itnot been for Cyn, who brought her sunny presence quite often into theoffice, heedless of the "no admittance" on the door, the monotony thathad now displaced the romantic side of telegraphy would have plungedNattie among the shadows almost constantly.
Of course the sudden cessation of the intimacy between "C" and "N" was atheme of much surprise and bantering comments along the line, especiallyfrom "Em." But these facetious remarks gradually became fewer as thewonder subsided. One day, nearly two weeks after the "collapse," Nattiewas surprised to hear the old familiar "B m--B m--B m--X n." Wondering ifhe had grown tired of waiting and was about to attempt a renewal oftheir former friendship, Nattie rather impatiently answered. But itproved he had a message, an occurrence quite infrequent with him. Thishe sent without unnecessary words. But after she had given "O. K." andclosed her key, he opened his to say,
"Please, don't you want to make up, N?"
"I have nothing to make up!" Nattie replied.
"O. K." was "C's" response as he again subsided.
"He snubs easily!" thought Nattie, much relieved.
The following Saturday night, however, as she was taking in from theshelf outside the blanks, ink, and bad pens that excited the ire ofirascible customers, preparatory to closing, "C" once more called. Witha devout hope that he was not going to be annoying, Nattie answered.
"Notwithstanding the late coolness between us, which was not my fault,and for which I cannot account" he began, and then some one with a rushmessage broke in.
"What is he coming at now I wonder--he commenced with a great display ofwords," thought Nattie curiously; and then with a little curl of herlip, "a sentence out of some book, I suppose."
But as soon as the wire was quiet she said,
"To 'C' Please g a--account"
"I could not leave, as I am about to do to-night, without sayinggood-by, in remembrance of our former pleasant intercourse," concluded"C."
"You mean you are leaving permanently?" queried Nattie, surprised.
"Yes, this is my last day here. Monday I leave town; and so, with muchregret that anything unpleasant should have interrupted ouracquaintance--although what it was I assure you I do not know, since youdeign me no explanation--I will say, not as I would once, _au revoir_, butgood-by."
"Good-by," answered Nattie, forgetting for the moment everything but"C," the old "C," the "C" who had enlivened so many hours, and aboutwhom had dwelt that romantic mystery. "Good-by. Believe me, I shallalways remember the many social talks we have enjoyed."
"Possibly we might enjoy them again, if you desired," "C" said then, asif he gave her a chance for explanation or to express such a wish.
But Nattie, recalling now the bears-grease, the musk, the cheap jewelryand their obnoxious possessor, answered only, "Good-by."
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