ood," I replied. I could not resist the temptation to add,
"I had an idea Asquith rather suited your purposes just now."

"I don't quite understand," he said, jumping at the other half of my
meaning.

"Oh, nothing. But you told me when you came here, if I am not mistaken,
that you chose Asquith because of those very qualities for which you now
condemn it."

"Magna est vis consuetudinis," he laughed; "I thought I could stand the
life, but I can't. I am tired of their sects and synods and sermons. By
the way," said he pulling at my sleeve, "what a deuced pretty girl that
Miss Thorn is! Isn't she? Rollins, where's the cart? Well, good-bye,
Crocker; see you soon."

He drove rapidly off as the clock struck six, and an uneasy glance he
gave the upper windows did not escape me. When Farrar appeared, I told
him what had happened.

"Good riddance," he replied sententiously.

We sat in silence until the bell rang, looking at the morning sun on the
lake. I was a little anxious to learn the state of Farrar's feelings in
regard to Miss Trevor, and how this new twist in affairs had affected
them. But I might as well have expected one of King Louis's carp to
whisper secrets of the old regime. The young lady came to the
breakfast-table looking so fresh and in such high spirits that I made
sure she had not heard of the Celebrity's ignoble escape. As the meal
proceeded it was easy to mark that her eye now and again fell across his
empty chair, and glanced inquiringly towards the door. I made up my mind
that I would not be the bearer of evil news, and so did Farrar, so we
kept up a vapid small-talk with Mr. Trevor on the condition of trade in
the West. Miss Trevor, however, in some way came to suspect that we
could account for that vacant seat. At last she fixed her eye
inquiringly on me, and I trembled.

"Mr. Crocker," she began, and paused. Then she added with a fair
unconcern, "do you happen to know where Mr. Allen is this morning?"

"He has gone over to Mohair, I believe," I replied weakly.

"To Mohair!" she exclaimed, putting down her cup; "why, he promised to
go canoeing at ten.

"Probably he will be back by then," I ventured, not finding it in my
heart to tell her the cruel truth. But I kept my eyes on my plate. They
say a lie has short legs. Mine had, for my black friend, Simpson, was at
that instant taking off the fruit, and overheard my remark.

"Mr. Allen done gone for good," he put in, "done give me five dollars