evor, "I am going to be very generous.
I relinquish the prize to you, and to you only. And I flatter myself
there are not many girls in this world who would do it."

"Thank you, Irene," Miss Thorn replied gravely, "much as I want him,
I could not think of depriving you."

Well, there is a limit to all endurance, and the Celebrity had reached
his.

"Crocker," he said, "how far is it to the Canadian Pacific?"

I told him.

"I think I had best be starting," said he.

And a moment later he had disappeared into the woods.

We stood gazing in the direction he had taken, until the sound of his
progress had died away. The shock of it all had considerably muddled my
brain, and when at last I had adjusted my thoughts to the new conditions,
a sensation of relief, of happiness, of joy (call it what you will), came
upon me, and I could scarce restrain an impulse to toss my hat in the
air. He was gone at last! But that was not the reason. I was safe from
O'Meara and calumny. Nor was this all. And I did not dare to look at
Miss Thorn. The knowledge that she had planned and carried out with
dignity and success such a campaign filled me with awe. That I had
misjudged her made me despise myself. Then I became aware that she was
speaking to me, and I turned.

"Mr. Crocker, do you think there is any danger that he will lose
his way?"

"No, Miss Thorn," I replied; "he has only to get to the top of that ridge
and strike the road for Saville, as I told him."

We were silent again until Miss Trevor remarked:

"Well, he deserved every bit of it."

"And more, Irene," said Miss Thorn, laughing; "he deserved to marry
you."

"I think he won't come West again for a very long time," said I.

Miss Trevor regarded me wickedly, and I knew what was coming.

"I hope you are convinced, now, Mr. Crocker, that our sex is not as black
as you painted it: that Miss Thorn knew what she was about, and that she
is not the inconsistent and variable creature you took her to be."

I felt the blood rush to my face, and Miss Thorn, too, became scarlet.
She went up to the mischievous Irene and grasping her arms from behind,
bent them until she cried for mercy.

"How strong you are, Marian! It is an outrage to hurt me so. I haven't
said anything." But she was incorrigible, and when she had twisted free
she began again:

"I took it upon myself to speak a few parables to Mr. Crocker the other
day. You know, Marian, that he is one of these level-heade