CHAPTER XI.
MISS KLING TELEGRAPHICALLY BAFFLED.
Miss Betsey Kling was quite uneasy in her mind about this time, not onlybecause the Torpedo refused to see himself in the light of that otherself, and fled whenever he saw her approaching, but also because somesubtle instinct told her, that under her very nose, was going onsomething of which the details were unknown to her, and that listen asshe would, could not be ascertained. This good-looking young man, whohad so suddenly appeared on Mrs. Simonson's premises who and what washe? From Mrs. Simonson she learned that he was an old friend ofQuimby's; that she believed he was also an old friend of Miss Archer's,or Miss Rogers', or of both, and that his father was very wealthy,
"Humph!" said Miss Kling, with a suspicious sniffle. "Strange that heshould room with Quimby if his father is so wealthy? Why does he nothave a room of his own?"
"He and Quimby are such friends, you see!" Mrs. Simonson explained.
Miss Kling gave another sniffle, this time of contempt, at such a reasonbeing possible.
"Miss Rogers is in here about all her time when she isn't at the office,is she not?" was the next question.
"She is very intimate with Miss Archer," Mrs. Simonson replied.
"And I suppose _he_ and that Quimby are in there with them every evening,are they not?" pursued Miss Kling.
They called quite often, Mrs. Simonson acknowledged, as did Mr. Norton,and Miss Fishblate.
"They seem to have good times, too," added kindly Mrs. Simonson. "Youngfolks will be young folks, you know. And why not? Bless you! we nevercan enjoy ourselves again as we do when young. There are too many caresand worries when we get to our age."
Miss Kling rose stiffly; this allusion to "our age" disgusted andoffended her beyond pardon, and she flew into a spasm of sneezing.
"Well, I, for one, do not think such conduct is proper," she said, assoon as possible. "I was brought up to understand that young ladiesshould never receive the visits of gentlemen except in the presence ofolder people!"
Mrs. Simonson only laughed a little forced laugh she had when she didnot know exactly what to say. For her own part, although not willing tooffend Miss Kling by saying so, she was glad to see her lodgers enjoyingthemselves; more than glad to have Clem there, as on his arrival she hadpromptly tacked an extra dollar on the room rent, under the plea thatthe wear and tear on furniture was greater with two in a room.
Miss Kling, fearing, perhaps, another reference to "our age," left her,and next attacked Celeste Fishblate, having long ago discovered Nattieto be impregnable to the process known as "pumping," a fact that hadaugmented her ever-increasing dislike towards her lodger.
From Celeste, she learned that they had "_such_ nice times!" that Mr.Stanwood was "_so_ splendid!" and that "Miss Archer was just _dead_ inlove with him, and he with her!"
"Humph!" thought Miss Kling with a sneeze. "It's that Miss Archer then,is it?" Her next move was to arrest poor Quimby in the hall, intendingto put him through a series of interrogations regarding the antecedentsof his friend, and the length of his acquaintance with Miss Archer. Butin this she was baffled, for at the first question, Quimby exclaimed,
"I--I don't know! Don't ask me!" and fled.
Miss Kling, much to her dissatisfaction, was therefore compelled to makethe little she had gathered go as far as it would, for the present. Butshe lived in hopes.
It was perhaps not wonderful, that Miss Kling sitting lonely by herfireside, and pining for her other self, should feel envious because herlodger, whom she took ostensibly for company, was enjoying herself overthe way evening after evening, and telling her absolutely nothing aboutit, but confining their intercourse to the necessary civilities.
Undoubtedly the few weeks that had passed since Clem's appearance on thescene ought to have been the happiest in Nattie's hitherto lonely life,happier even than those in which she talked to the then unseen "C," andspeculated about him with Cyn. But yet--she sometimes felt that acertain something that had been on the wire was lacking now; that Clem,while realizing all her old expectations of "C," was not exactly what"C" had been to her. One reason of this she knew was her own inabilityto conquer a sort of timidity she felt in his presence, a timidity fromwhich Cyn was certainly free. Well aware that beside the gay andbrilliant Cyn she was nowhere, Nattie had a sensitive fear that he mightbe disappointed in her. But she did not yet know that the foundation ofall these uneasy misgivings of hers was a selfish emotion, the same thathad prompted that jealous pang at Cyn's "we" the day he first discoveredhimself, and this was, that on the wire "C" had been all hers, but inClem, Cyn seemed to have the largest share.
Twice he had called on Nattie at the office, but neither time couldstop, and as it happened on each occasion, she was in the midst of arush of business, hat left no chance for conversation. But one rainySaturday afternoon, when a general dullness prevailed, and she wasfervently wishing the hands of the clock might move on faster towardssix, Clem holding a very wet umbrella, and with water dripping from hiscurly locks, presented himself. If he was not, he certainly ought tohave been flattered by the blush with which Nattie involuntarilywelcomed him.
"Did you rain down?" she hastily exclaimed, hoping by this tritecommonplace to distract attention from the blush, of which she wasconscious.
"It appears like it, doesn't it?" he answered merrily, giving himself alittle shake, and placing his wet umbrella and hat in a corner. "It wasso dull at the store, I thought I would run around to the scene offormer exploits. Do you not sometimes wish I was back at X n to keep youcompany such days as these?"
Without thinking twice before she spoke once, Nattie answered candidly,as she placed a chair for her visitor,
"Yes, I believe I do, often."
"I do not know whether to take that as a compliment or otherwise," Clemsaid, looking at her as if half vexed.
Nattie glanced up inquiringly
"It certainly is a compliment to my abilities for, making myselfagreeable at a _distance_. But--" said Clem, with a shrug of hisshoulders, "a poor fellow does not like to feel as if the farther awayhe is, the better he is liked!"
"Oh! I did not mean it that way at all!" exclaimed Nattie, in hastyexplanation. "Only, you know, I had more of your company on the wire!"
Clem looked pleased.
"If that is the trouble--" he began, but Nattie interrupted, her facevery red.
"I did not mean that, either; I meant it was in such a different way,you know--and I--I could talk more easily, and--I do not believe I knowwhat I do mean!" stopping short in embarrassment.
Clem looked at her and smiled.
"Let us see if it is any easier talking on the wire," he said; andtaking the key, he wrote,
"Good P m, will you please tell me truly, and relieve my mind, if youlike me as well as you thought you would?"
Taking the key he relinquished, and without looking at him, she replied,"Yes; and suppose I ask you the same question, what would you say,politeness aside?"
"I should answer." wrote Clem, his eyes on the sounder, "that I havefound the very little girl expected!"
And then their eyes met, and Nattie hastily rose and walked to thewindow, for no ostensible purpose, and Clem said, going after her,
"It _is_ nicer talking on the wire, isn't it?"
Nattie was saved the necessity of replying by some one down the line whojust then inquired,
"Who was that talking soft nonsense just now? We don't allow that sortof thing here!"
"How impertinent!" exclaimed Nattie.
"Possibly our red-headed friend is somewhere about," Clem said; thentaking the key, responded to the unknown questioner,
"Don't trouble yourself; I shall not talk soft nonsense to you!"
"That sounds like 'C's' writing! Is it?" was asked quickly.
"My style must be very peculiar to be so readily detected," Clem said toNattie, laughingly; then replied on the wire, "If you will sign I willtell you."
"Em."
"Ah!" said Clem, and i
mmediately acknowledged himself. Then followed ashort chat with "Em," in which she endeavored to make him confess whatoffice he was then sending from, which he persistently refused to do.
Having bade "Em" good-by, and closed the key, he said to Nattie,verbally, "We ought to have a private wire of our own, since a wire isso necessary to our happiness! I see," glancing around the office, "thatyou have an extra key and sounder here."
"Yes;" Nattie replied, "we had at one time a railroad wire, and when itwas taken out, the instruments were left, and have been here eversince."
"Do you suppose you could take them home--to practice on, say?" queriedClem, a sparkle in his brown eyes.
"Doubtless, if I asked permission, they would allow me that privilege;why?" asked Nattie, curiously.
"I have a brilliant idea!" replied Clem, gayly. "But do not be alarmed,I am used to it, as Quimby would say; it is this. I myself have a keyand sounder, relics of college days, beauties, too, and if you can takehome those over there, we will have telegraphic communication from yourroom to ours, immediately. The wire and battery I will fix all right,and when Cyn is out, and you can't come over, and at odd times, we willhave some of our old chats."
"But," said Nattie, hesitatingly, although evidently delighted with theidea, "Miss Kling' will never--"
"Hang Miss Kling!" interrupted Clem, emphatically; "excuse theexpression, but she deserves it; she never need know. I will undertaketo arrange everything, and keep the secret from her. To account for theinstruments in your room, tell her you are going to practice at home,and have a pupil. Cyn, I know, will be delighted to amuse herself bylearning."
"I should like it very much," acknowledged Nattie, "but--"
"I allow no buts," Clem interrupted with gay decision "you get theinstruments, tell me the first time Miss Kling goes out to spend theday, and leave the rest to me."
Nattie needed little urging, being only too willing to have some more ofthose old confidential chats with "C,"--which _nobody_ could share--andthe required promise was given.
Strange it is, how circumstances alter cases. Coming to the office thatmorning, Nattie had found it disagreeable and hard enough to buffet thestorm, and had growled at herself all the way, because she was not smartenough to get on in the world, even so far as to be able to stay at homein such weather For storms of nature, like storms of life, are hardestto a woman, trammeled as she is in the one by long skirts, that willdrag in the mud, and clothes that every gust of wind catches, and in theother by prejudices and impediments of every kind, that the world, inconsideration, doubtless, for her so-called "weakness," throws in herway. But now, on her way home, Nattie minded not the wind, and ratherenjoyed the rain; it may be that this total change in her sentiments wasdue to the fact that Clem held the umbrella.
Miss Kling saw them come into the hotel together, wet and merry, andscowled. Perhaps in former days she had gone home under an umbrella withsomebody--a possible other self--and so knew all about the enjoyabilityof the experience. But Nattie did not even notice her landlady'sacrimonious glance, and sang a gay song as she changed her bedrabbleddress.
Cyn, who was of course immediately informed about the projected privatewire, was delighted with the idea, and began studying the Morse alphabetat once.
"And the best of all is that we are going to get the better of thatargus-eyed Dragon!" said Cyn.
"_If_ we can!" Nattie replied with emphasis.
"Oh! but Clem is sure of that part!" Cyn said with great confidence.
But Nattie shook her head dubiously.
"She is so inquisitive!" she remarked.
"Yes, and the most despicable character on earth to me, is a personwhose chief object in life is gossip! why, life is too short to takecare of our own affairs in! I wish you would leave her, and come androom with me!" exclaimed Cyn indignantly.
"Mrs. Simonson would not dare have me. She is afraid of Miss Kling, youknow. But I wish I might, for I am tired of being here," Nattie replieddiscontentedly.
"Well, we will have our wire at all events, and for once something shallbe that Miss Kling will not know," said Cyn exultantly.
Unconsciously the dreaded individual favored them, shortly after, bygoing to spend the evening with friends after her own heart--verygenteel, but in reduced circumstances:--and as the instruments were allready, and they had only been waiting for her absence, Clem went towork. He was assisted by the willing Jo, who argued that running a wirewas solid work, and _not_ romantic, and by Quimby, who viewed thearrangement as another formidable link in the chain of his rival, andclamored wildly for a "telephone," because "anybody could use atelephone." But that, as Clem said, was exactly what they did not want!Consequently Quimby, as he lent his aid, felt himself a very martyr.However, he was, by this time, "used to it, you know,"--as he would havesaid--having viewed himself in that light since his unwittingresurrection of "C." Still, he sometimes fancied he saw a dim lightshining ahead through the gloom--a hope that Clem might be fascinated byCyn. Many were, Quimby argued, so why should not Clem be? and certainlyhe talked with her more than he did with Nattie!
In Nattie's room, they placed the instruments on a small shelf put upfor the purpose, just outside her closet, and run the wire through thecloset into the hall outside, and thence along, so close to the wallthat it was not noticeable, except to those who knew, and then into Mrs.Simonson's apartments. Here, no concealment was necessary, as Mrs.Simonson had been informed of the plan, and, although trembling lest thevials of Miss Kling's wrath would be poured on her head, should thatlady discover the arrangement, had no objections to offer, if they werepositive "the electricity on the wire would not wear out the carpet, orinjure the table"--which was the terminus in Quimby and Clem's room.
Having satisfied her on this point, they deemed it expedient not to showher the battery in their closet, fearing alarm lest it might eat throughthe room and overpower her.
"And now," said Clem, gayly, when all was finished, and fortunatelywithout attracting attention, not even Celeste being in the secret;"now, Quimby, we can dispense with that alarm clock we were intending tobuy."
"I--I beg pardon, but I--I don't quite catch your meaning," the martyrreplied, in evident surprise.
"Why, Nat is to be our alarm clock!" explained Clem, laughing. "She is,from necessity, an early riser, and I shall depend on her to call on ourwire at precisely six thirty every morning, and continue calling until Ianswer."
"I certainly will," Nattie replied. "But I will venture to predict thatboth you and Quimby will privately call me all sorts of names for doingit. It makes people so very cross to be aroused from a morning nap, youknow!"
"It doesn't make _me_ cross, I--I assure you; it--it will be a pleasure!"quickly exclaimed Quimby, who was delighted with this idea of the alarmclock.
"I will report him if he shows the least symptom of growling, after thatassertion!" Clem said to Nattie, somewhat to Quimby's internalagitation, for, to tell the truth, he was not really quite certain ofbeing in a state of rapture at six thirty every morning, even when awokeby the clatter of a sounder, of which the motive power was hisinamorata.
"And now, to christen our wire!" Nattie, who was in high spirits, saidgayly, and she ran over to her room, and a half hour's chat with "C"followed before she went to bed. For a week after, however, she lived,as it were, on thorns, and came home every night half expecting anexplosion.
None came, however. Miss Kling's eyes were not as good as they once hadbeen, what with their long service watching for that other self, andoverlooking her neighbors; the hall was dark; she had no duplicate keyto Nattie's always-locked room, and the small wire, nestling close tothe wall, was undiscovered; of course, she heard the clatter of thesounder, but this Nattie explained on the score of "practice."
"Well, I am sure!" said Miss Kling, snappishly, "I should think youwould get 'practice' enough at the office, without sitting up nights todo it!"
At which Nattie turned away to hide a blush, aware that "C" and shesometimes talked even
into the small hours, in their zeal, doubtless,that the new wire should not rust out for lack of using.
But this telegraphic arrangement came hardest on poor Quimby, who,between his jealousy when the two were communicating, his inability tounderstand what was being said, and the impossibility of sleeping withsuch a clatter in the room, lost his appetite, and invoked anything butblessings on the head of "that Morse man," who had made such thingspossible.
Cyn had no intention of being left out in the cold, and making Jo joinher, began the study of telegraphy, and the two hammered awayincessantly. It began to be observable, about this time, that Jo wasvery willing to be led about by the nose by Cyn. Why, was not soapparent; perhaps because there was no romance in it.
Cyn learned the quicker of the two, and she was soon able, slowly anduncertainly, to "call" Nattie, ask her to come over, or impart anylittle information, but was always driven frantic by the attempt to makeout Nattie's reply, however slowly written. Cyn tried to induce Quimbyto overcome the horrors of those little black marks, the alphabet andtheir sounds, but he recoiled from the effort as hopeless.
However, whenever they made candy, as they often did, he had anopportunity of distinguishing himself, that he did not fail to improve.On the first occasion, so uneasy was he about a quiet conversation Clemand Nattie were having, that he absently put the mass of candy he hadbeen pulling, into his pocket to cool. It _did_ cool, but he sold the coatafterwards, to a boy at the office.
Next time, he forgot to grease his hands, and stuck himself so together,that they had the utmost difficulty in getting him apart, but, as hesaid,
"It's no matter, I--I am used to it, you know!"
He capped the climax, however, by accidentally dropping a large handful,warm, on top of Celeste's head, aggravating the offense by telling herto "go quick and soak her head;" which, although it was what sheeventually did, was too much like a certain slang phrase much in vogue,for human nature to endure; and giving him an angry look, the only oneon record ever given by her to a man, she rushed from the room, and wasseen no more that evening.
After this exploit, whenever molasses candy was on the programme, theymade a rule that Quimby should sit in the corner, on the old familiarstool, and not move until all was over--a rule to which he submittedmeekly.
But he was not happy. In truth, all his joys in these days were mixedwith alloy, between the pointed monopoly of Celeste-who, of late, andsince she had given up every one else as hopeless, had devoted herselfentirely to him--and his secret jealousy of Clem.
Strangely enough, with the exception of Cyn, no one was aware of theexact state of his mind. Clem was as unconscious of it as a child, forany peculiarity in his behavior was laid to his well-knownidiosyncrasies; Celeste suspected he was in love, but was blindlydetermined to believe she was the chief attraction in his eyes. Nattie,if she thought about it at all, imagined he was entirely cured Of thatformer "foolishness," as she termed his one attempt to put his devotioninto words. And as for Jo, being so opposed to anything of a sentimentalnature himself, naturally he was unwilling to observe any indications ofthe kind in another, and any glaring revelations that forced themselveson his notice, he, in common with Clem, decided was "only Quimby's way."
Oh, Dear, no! Jo could see nothing but plain-unromantic facts. It was nosentiment, or anything of the sort on Jo's part, of course, that madehim reproduce the handsome, brilliant face of Cyn, in so many of hisrecent pictures. Oh, no! she was a good "study," that was all! Nor thatcaused him to seek her society in preference to all others, to listenentranced when she sang, and to be exceedingly annoyed--a rare thingonce for good humored Jo--when Clem was given more than his share of herattention. Again oh, no! Cyn was a fellow Bohemian, a congenialspirit, that was all. Neither in the least sentimental or jealous was Jo!
But for all that, and for some unexplained reason, he was not quite soeven in his spirits as he was wont to be, sometimes being very happy,and then terribly depressed. Did he eat too much, or too little, which?For if it was not the first commencement of a first love--and of courseit was not--it must have been his digestion that ailed him!
Had Miss Betsey Kling known of these little uneasy undercurrents amidstthe gayety that so annoyed her, the knowledge would doubtless have givenher much satisfaction, besides, possibly, the inkling she could not nowobtain of what was "going on." It was a source of great distress to herthat she could not ascertain whether it was Cyn or Nattie with whom Clemwas "flirting." For she was positive he was trifling with the affectionsof one or the other, and that matters would end in some kind of ahorrible scandal. But for all her listening and prying around, she couldnot seem to gain much information, except that everybody butherself--and perhaps the old gentleman Fishblate--was having a goodtime. Nor could she get hold of anything "dreadful," which was thegreatest disappointment of all.
One night, however, listening at her own door as Nattie bade Cyn "goodnight," over the way, Miss Kling heard Clem call out from within,something that made her very hair stand on end. It was this:
"Please wake me up earlier than usual to-morrow morning, will you,Nattie?"
"Wake him up, indeed!" thought the outraged but happy Miss Kling, as shewended her way back to her own room. "Pretty goings on! and I know Iheard that machine clatter when she was not in, one day! Machines do notclatter without a human agency somewhere! There is something wrong here!and I will find it out, or my name is not Betsey Kling 'Wake him up,'indeed!"