"Poor Clem!" again said Nattie, from the depths of her tender heart. "For I know he loves you, dear. He could not help it, who could?"
Such words would have been sweet to the vanity of an ordinary woman. But on Cyn they had a very opposite effect.
"Things have come to a pretty pass if one cannot laugh and joke, and enjoy one's self with friends without being made love to!" she said, annoyed. Then looking scrutinizingly at Nattie, she asked,
"And you—did you really wish Clem and I might love each other?"
Nattie played nervously with the fringe of her dress, hesitated, then replied in a low tone,
"I fear I did not, Cyn!"
"Then it may come right yet!" exclaimed Cyn, hopefully.
Nattie shook her head.
"And he loving you? Oh, no!" she said. "I shall never be able to say O. K. to what you term your romance of the dots and dashes, Cyn. In fact, I have made up my mind that there are some people born to go through life missing both its best and its worst, and that I am one!"
"Pray, do not say that!" urged Cyn, too
