"I do not understand it," he said at last. "It isn't possible that I have done anything to offend you?"
"Only offended me with the sight of you!" thought Nattie; but unwilling to be really impolite, replied, "Certainly not!"
"You are not angry about yesterday, are you?" pursued "C."
"Certainly not," repeated Nattie, adding to herself, "A faint idea that I did not exactly fall in love with you is creeping into your red head, is it?"
"If I have done anything, I beg you to tell me what, for I am ignorant of it, and I assure you I am penitent, and that I forgive you!" continued "C," "only please don't be cross to me!"
Nattie saw her opportunity for picking a quarrel, and seized it.
"I do not know what you mean by my being cross!" she said. "I am sure I was not aware that I was obliged to talk to any one unless I felt like it. I am not in the mood to-day, and I will not be forced. You have no right to call me cross, and when I am in the humor to talk with you again I will let you know!"
"Very well!" "C" replied promptly, undoubtedly angry himself now; "I will wait your pleasure!" and then was mute.
"It has not been quite so gradual as I intended, but I think I have effectually settled the matter, and my mind is relieved," thought Nattie; yet she sighed, and her satisfaction was followed by depression, for with "C" departed the pleasantest part of her office life, a fact she could not disguise. In the week that followed, when "C," true to his word, waited, saying nothing, she missed continually the sympathy, the gay talk, the companionship that had made the constantly-occurring annoyances endurable, and the days that dragged so now seem short. The office business did not fill half her time, and the constant confinement began to be irksome to her, whose nature demanded activity; in consequence, she often grew impatient and answered unnecessary questions of customers with a shortness that gave considerable offence; and had it not been for Cyn, who brought her sunny presence quite often into the office, heedless of the "no admittance" on the door, the monotony that had now displaced the romantic side of telegraphy would have plunged Nattie among the shadows almost constantly.
Of course the sudden cessation of the intimacy between "C" and "N" was a theme of much surprise and bantering comments along the line, especially from "Em." But these facetious remarks gradually became fewer as the wonder subsided. One day, nearly two weeks after the "collapse," Nattie was surprised to hear the old familiar "B m—B m—B m—X n." Wondering if he had grown tired of waiting and was about to attempt a renewal of their former friendship, Nattie rather impatiently answered. But it proved he had a message, an occurrence quite infrequent with him. This he sent without unnecessary words. But after she had given "O. K." and closed her key, he opened his to say,