He paused, and in the greatest bewilderment, Nattie stared at the opposite wall. Did he by some powerful intuition discern she was within hearing distance, or was he in his disappointment rehearsing to her empty chair? Before Nattie could decide between these two solutions of his conduct, another voice, the voice of Celeste, said faintly and affectedly,
"Oh, Quimby"
And then Nattie comprehended the situation. After her own retreat, Celeste had entered and taken the just vacated chair. It was twilight. Celeste wore a black dress like hers, her hair was dressed in the same style, and was the same color, and Quimby had mistaken her for Nattie! And in his excitement and struggle with that "flow of language," he did not notice even that it was not Nattie's voice saying "Oh, Quimby!" for he continued,
"I—I—you may reject me—I am afraid you will, but I must say it, you know. I must, or I shall—I shall explode and fly into atoms!"
Here Celeste gave a little scream, but he went on determinedly, making the most of his "glorious opportunity."
"I—I am not like other fellows, you know! that is, I mean I have not the—the brass, if I may so express myself, and I am always doing something wrong—but I am used to it, you know—the question is, could you get used to it? for I have a heart that is—that is honest, and that beats all full of love—of—love for—you know who I mean!"
There was a murmured "oh!" from Celeste, as Quimby paused to wipe from his brow the perspiration called forth by his arduous undertaking.
"What shall I do!" frantically thought the perplexed listener, divided between the ludicrous part of the affair, and her desire to save him from the dilemma into which he was rushing; "what can I do? oh! if Cyn would only come!"
But Cyn came not, and while Nattie paused, irresolute, and not knowing what course to take, Quimby went on to his fate.
"I have thought, sometimes, that you liked some other fellow—Clem, I mean—" Nattie felt herself blush in the darkness—"but I do hope not! the thought has made me boil in secret often, and he loves Cyn, you know—" Nattie's color left her face as quickly as it had come—"but oh!" and he went down on to his knees with a whack that made the vases on the mantel jingle. "Let me tell you what I tried twice before to say, what is always in my thoughts! I—I adore you! the ground you walk on! and have, ever since I first saw your nose! I—I beg pardon, but I fell in love with your nose! and will you—can you tell me that you don't love any other fellow—Clem, I mean—and share my little property, and be—be Mrs. Quimby, you know!"