Simonson, and you are going to live with me—for the present"—glancing archly at her, "until that book is written, for instance."
"And it will be written, now, I know!" said Nattie, earnestly, her eyes shining. "You remember what you once said, Cyn? I see now you were right."
"Yes;" said Cyn, seriously, "and thank Heaven that it was love, and not disappointment, that came!"
"Love shall not come in vain!" Nattie said, as seriously. "I will be worthy of it!"
The after years only could prove her words. But in Clem's face the belief in them was written as plainly as if those future possibilities were acknowledged results.
"We must have another feast to celebrate events!" Cyn said then, gayly. "You are happy; my romance is O. K.; Celeste is ecstatic; Quimby as joyful as circumstances permit the victim of mistake to be; Jo and I are hopeful of future fame—and we certainly must have a feast!"
"With plenty of dishes this time," laughed Clem, and there shall be no more crosses on the wire!"
"But bless my heart!" ejaculated Cyn, "here you two are making love like ordinary mortals"—at this Nattie hastily withdrew the hand Clem had taken—"Quimby and Celeste, for instance! This
