"Good gracious, Nat! what in the world is the matter?" cried Cyn, starting up and bringing the bottle of liniment she held in violent contact with Quimby's head, a circumstance that even the victim did not notice, so absorbed was he in amazement.
At Nattie's exclamation, Mr. Stanwood threw aside his book, pencil, and innocent countenance together, and regardless of any one but her, sprang to his feet, advanced with both hands extended, and shining eyes, saying,
"I mean just what I said, it is possible!"
Hardly knowing what she did, utterly confused and bewildered, Nattie placed her hand in the two that clasped it, while Cyn stared with distended eyes, Quimby with wide-open mouth, and Jo gave a long whistle. Cyn was first to recover, and began to scold.
"Well," she exclaimed, "this is a pretty piece of business, never yet played on any stage, I should think! Nat, will you, or will somebody have the goodness to explain this sudden and extraordinary scene?"
"I—I don't understand!" Nattie murmured faintly, and looking half-frightened, and half-beseechingly at Mr. Stanwood, who in response smiled and said, with a firmer clasp of the hand he still held,
