"What is the matter now, Ralfy?" asked the loving Celeste.
Again Quimby muttered something about "that tooth."
"Oh!" said Celeste, tenderly, "you really must have it out, Ralfy!"
The possibility of being obliged to part with a sound tooth in self-defense, restored him for the time being. But he was not the only one to whom the retrospect brought a momentary pain. Nattie sighed as she looked back to the day that had brought Clem, but not restored as she then supposed, but taken away, her "C."
"The salubrious air and the invigorating odor of the forest adds immeasurably to the natural capacity of the appetite!" commented Jo, gravely, as he passed his plate for the seventh fish.
"Ah!" sighed Celeste, who prided herself on her delicacy, "I never could eat more than would satisfy a mouse, and since my engagement," simpering, "I cannot swallow enough to scarce keep me alive!"
Quimby looked up eagerly.
"I—I beg pardon, but if the—if the engagement weighs upon you, I—I am willing to release you, you know!" he exclaimed, hopefully.
"You jealous creature!" replied Celeste, archly. "You know, Ralfy, that no consideration could make me release you!"
Quimby knew it only too well, and sighed as he picked a chicken bone.