Miss Archer, a little curious to see the lady with whom, she was secretly convinced, Quimbv was in love, readily consented to the proposition; and so it came to pass that Nattie was interrupted in an account she was giving "C" of a man who wanted to send a message to his wife, and seemed to think "My wife, in Providence," all the address necessary, by the unexpected apparition of Quimby, accompanied by a stylish and handsome young lady.
"I—I beg pardon, if I—if I intrude, you know," he stammered, beginning to wish he had not done it, as Nattie, with an "Excuse me, visitors," to "C," rose and came forward. "But I—I brought Miss Archer! To make you acquainted, you know."
"I am indebted to you for that pleasure," Nattie said, with a smile, as she took the hand Miss Archer extended, saying,
"I have heard Quimby speak about you so much, I already feel acquainted."
Quimby blushed, and nervously fingered his necktie.
"Such near neighbors—so lonesome—thought you ought to know each other," he said confusedly.
"Yes, I began to fear we were destined never to meet," Nattie replied, as she held the private door open for her visitors to enter, a proceeding contrary to rules, but she preferred rather to transgress in this way, than in manners, and leave her callers standing out in the cold.
"I don't know as we ever should, had it not been for Quimby," said Miss Archer, glancing curiously around the office. "I believe I never was in a telegraph office before. Don't you find the confinement rather irksome?"
"Sometimes," Nattie replied; "but then there always is some one to talk with on the wire,' and in that way a good deal of the time passes."
"Talk with—on the wire?" queried Miss Archer, with uplifted eyebrows. "What does that mean? Do tell me. I am as ignorant as a Hottentot about anything appertaining to telegraphy. Nearly all I know is, you write a message, pay for it, and it goes."