Wired Love, Ella Cheever Thayer [hot novels to read .txt] 📗

hold no further communication of any kind with him; then, in order to give a hint of her intentions, she added, bracing herself up to mention what was so difficult to speak of to this vampire who mocked her with her vanished C.

“Now that the⁠—the mystery is solved, and I⁠—and we have met, I don’t think there will be much amusement in talking over the wire.”

Somewhat to her surprise, and not at all flattering to her vanity, he answered, without a remonstrance,

“No! I don’t know as there will!”

“Perhaps he doesn’t like my looks any better than I do his!” was Nattie’s natural and indignant thought at this quiet reception of her hint. And if anything had been necessary⁠—which it certainly was not⁠—to her utter repudiation of him, this would have sufficed for the purpose.

“You mentioned this morning you thought of leaving X n. Do you expect to go soon?” she asked, catching at the idea that a few hours ago had caused so much alarm, with a hope that he might be about to vanish from her world finally and forever. But even as she spoke, the difference of the now and then smote her like a pain.

“Did I say that?” he said, with a look that she could not understand, as if for some secret reason, he was so well pleased with himself, he could hardly avoid laughing outright. “Oh! well! I was only fooling!”

Nattie’s face fell, but, catching at the opportunity to convey the impression that in her opinion they had not been very friendly, after all, she said,

“I suppose no one really means what they say on the wire. I am sure I do not!”

“But we mean what we say now,” he replied, with an insinuating smile. “Next time I come we will be more sociable. But we’ve have had a nice talk, ain’t we?”

For a moment the repulsive person before her overcame the remembrance of the lost C, and Nattie replied, sarcastically,

“I trust the talk has not been too much of an exercise for your brain!”

He looked at her doubtfully, and then laughed. “You are sort of a queer girl, ain’t you? I wish though, I could stay and buzz you longer, but I have only time to get my train, so goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” said Nattie, betraying all her relief at his departure in the sudden animation of her voice, something so different from her preceding manner that he could but notice it, and he turned, looked at her, as if a suspicion of its true cause penetrated his mind at last, frowned, and then with that former look she did not understand crossing his face, nodded and ran for the depot, coming into violent collision with a fat Dutchman, looking perplexedly for a barber’s shop. And thus the red hair, the bear’s grease, the sham jewelry, and the obtrusive, fighting teeth disappeared forever from Nattie’s sight, leaving her with a bewildered look on her face, as if, indeed, just awakened from that imagined nightmare.

She looked around the office blankly. Everything was there just as usual, the little key and the sounder, over which had come all C’s pleasant talk. C! That creature! The odor of his detestable musk hovered about her even now, but not yet could she realize that her C was no more.

VII “Goodbye”

It was a very long face that Nattie carried to the Hotel Norman that night; so long that Miss Kling at once saw that something was amiss, and while curiously wondering as to the cause, took a grim satisfaction in the fact. For Miss Kling liked not to see cheerful faces; why should others be happy when she had not found her other self?

Nattie’s first act on gaining her own room was to drag forth that carefully-preserved pen and ink sketch, and tear it to atoms, annihilating the chubby Cupid with especial care.

“And now,” she thought to herself savagely, as she burned up the pieces, “I never will be interested in people again, unless I know all about them. Imagination is too dangerous a guide for me!”

Having thus exterminated the illustrated edition of her romance, Nattie felt the necessity of unburdening her mind, her sorrow not being too deep for words, and with that object sought Cyn; a proceeding much disapproved of by Miss Kling, who, knowing well that weakness of human nature that seeks a friendly bosom wherein to repose its sorrows, rightly surmised her lodger’s destination and design, and decidedly objected to anyone knowing more than she herself did.

Nattie found her friend at home, but to her vexation, not alone. With her was Quimby, who had called in the untold hope of gleaning tidings of the young lady who had⁠—as he said to himself⁠—floored him. His confusion at the sight of her, remembering as he did the somewhat unusual circumstances of their last meeting, was indescribable; indeed, his knees actually knocked together. Nattie, however, whose latest experience had effaced the effect, and almost the remembrance of that former one, bade him good evening, without the least trace of consciousness or embarrassment, a composure of manner that astounded but at the same time filled him with admiration.

As he did not take his departure, being, in fact, unable to tear himself away, Nattie, in her anxiety to tell Cyn all that was in her mind, and reflecting that he really was of no consequence⁠—an argument not flattering to its object, but one that he probably would have been first to endorse had he known it⁠—and, moreover, that he already knew the prologue, disregarded his presence and said,

“The most incomprehensible thing has happened, Cyn! I cannot realize it even now!”

Quimby quaked in his boots, and grew hot all over with the fear that she was going to relate their last evening’s adventure. Could it be possible?

“I knew that something was the matter the moment you entered the room,” said Cyn. “I cannot imagine, why you should look as if you were going into the grave-digging business!”

“Ah, Cyn!”