"It is not necessary to write!" she cried. "Pray, do not take such a trifle so much to heart. Remember I am yours, and—"
Another voice from the stairs just above the pair, interrupted her. It was the voice of Fishblate pere, and it said,
"Hugging! Marry her!"
"I—I—will!" wailed the now alarmed Quimby, as Celeste blushingly withdrew from her embrace of him. "I—I will see you to-morrow if I—if I live!" and striking his forehead with his hand, he burst away, bounded frantically down the stairs and fled, ejaculating,
"I knew it! I had a presentiment from my youth!"
"Excuse his eccentricity, Pa!" Celeste said. "He loves me so much, poor fellow!"
"Humph! Get enough of that!" he growled, with contempt.
"And he has a nice little property!" added Celeste, as they went up stairs.
"Property is the thing!" Fishblate pere said, with undisguised plainness.
Nattie emerged from her retreat on the hasty exit of Quimby and Celeste, so full of regret for the flight that had proved so disastrous to him, that the ludicrous part of the scene just enacted was forgotten.