last night. Why, sah," he added, scratching his head, "you was on de
poch dis mornin' when his trunks was took away!"

It was certainly no time to quibble then.

"His trunks!" Miss Trevor exclaimed.

"Yes, he has left us and gone to Mohair," I said, "bag and baggage. That
is the flat truth of it."

I suppose there is some general rule for calculating beforehand how a
young woman is going to act when news of this sort is broken. I had no
notion of what Miss Trevor would do. I believe Farrar thought she would
faint, for he laid his napkin on the table. She did nothing of the kind,
but said simply:

"How unreliable men are!"

I fell to guessing what her feelings were; for the life of me I could not
tell from her face. I was sorry for Miss Trevor in spite of the fact
that she had neglected to ask my advice before falling in love with the
Celebrity. I asked her to go canoeing with me. She refused kindly but
very firmly.

It is needless to say that the Celebrity did not come back to the inn,
and as far as I could see the desertion was designed, cold-blooded, and
complete. Miss Trevor remained out of sight during the day of his
departure, and at dinner we noticed traces of a storm about her,--a storm
which had come and gone. There was an involuntary hush as she entered
the dining-room, for Asquith had been buzzing that afternoon over the
episode. And I admired the manner in which she bore her inspection.
Already rumors of the cause of Mr. Allen's departure were in active
circulation, and I was astonished to learn that he had been seen that day
seated upon Indian rock with Miss Thorn herself. This piece of news gave
me a feeling of insecurity about people, and about women in particular,
that I had never before experienced. After holding the Celebrity up to
such unmeasured ridicule as she had done, ridicule not without a
seasoning of contempt, it was difficult to believe Miss Thorn so
inconsistent as to go alone with him to Indian rock; and she was not
ignorant of Miss Trevor's experience. But the fact was attested by
trustworthy persons.

I have often wondered what prompted me to ask Miss Trevor again to go
canoeing. To do myself justice, it was no wish of mine to meddle with or
pry into her affairs. Neither did I flatter myself that my poor company
would be any consolation for that she had lost. I shall not try to
analyze my motive. Suffice it to record that she accepted this second
invitation, and I did my best to a