he sent his regards, and wished he could be of the party."
"I wish he might. But that would spoil the mystery," rejoined Miss Archer. "Do you know what the 'C' is for?"
"Clem," he says. His other name I don't know. He would give me some outlandish cognomen if I should ask. But it isn't of much consequence."
"It might be if you should really fall in love with him," laughed Miss Archer.
"Fall in love! over the wire! That is absurd, especially as I am not susceptible," Nattie answered, coloring a trifle, however, as she remembered how utterly disconsolate she had been all that morning, because a "cross" on the wire had for several hours cut off communication between her office and "X n."
"You think it would be too romantic for real life? Doubtless you are right. And the funny incidents—have you anything new in your note-book?"
"Only that a man to-day, who had perhaps just dined, wanted to know the tariff to the U—nited St—at—ates," answered Nattie, glancing at some autumn leaves tastefully arranged on the walls and curtains. "But 'C' was telling me about a mistake that was lately made—not by him, he vehemently asserts, although I am inclined to think it was; the message as originally sent was, 'John is dead, be at
