"Certainly!" replied Nattie, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye that
"C" knew not of. "Imagine, if you please, a tall young man, with—"
"C" "broke" quickly, saying,
"Oh, no! You cannot deceive me in that way! Under protest I accept the height, but spurn the sex!"
"Why, you do not suppose I am a lady, do you?" queried Nattie.
"I am quite positive you are. There is a certain difference in the 'sending,' of a lady and gentleman, that I have learned to distinguish. Can you truly say I am wrong?"
Nattie evaded a direct reply, by saying,
"People who think they know so much are often deceived; now I make no surmises about you, but ask, fairly and squarely, shall I call you Mr., Miss, or Mrs. 'C'?"
"Call me neither. Call me plain 'C', or picture, if you like, in place of your sounder, a blonde, fairy-like girl talking to you, with pensive cheeks and sunny—"
"Don't you believe a word of it!"—some one on the wire here broke in, wishing, probably, to have a finger in the pie; "picture a hippopotamus, an elephant, but picture no fairy!"
"Judge not others by yourself, and learn to speak when spoken to!" "C" replied to the unknown; then "To N.—You know the more mystery there is about anything, the more interesting it becomes. Therefore, if I envelop myself in all the mystery possible, I will cherish hopes that you may dream of me!"