ell as Uncle Farquhar, dances well, and is a
capital paddle."

"You were speaking of qualities, not accomplishments," I said.
A horrible suspicion that she was having a little fun at my expense
crossed my mind.

Very good, then. You must admit that he is generous to a fault, amiable;
and persevering, else he would never have attained the position he
enjoys. And his affection for you, Mr. Crocker, is really touching,
considering how little he gets in return."

"Come, Miss Thorn," I said severely, "this is ridiculous. I don't like
him, and never shall. I liked him once, before he took to writing
drivel. But he must have been made over since then. And what is more,
with all respect to your opinion, I don't believe he likes me."

Miss Thorn straightened up with dignity and said:

"You do him an injustice. But perhaps you will learn to appreciate him
before he leaves Mohair."

"That is not likely," I replied--not at all pleasantly, I fear. And
again I thought I observed in her the same desire to laugh she had before
exhibited.

And all the way back her talk was of nothing except the Celebrity.
I tried every method short of absolute rudeness to change the subject,
and went from silence to taciturnity and back again to silence. She
discussed his books and his mannerisms, even the growth of his
popularity. She repeated anecdotes of him from Naples to St.
Petersburg, from Tokio to Cape Town. And when we finally stopped under
the porte cochere I had scarcely the civility left to say good-bye.

I held out my hand to help her to the ground, but she paused on the
second step.

"Mr. Crocker," she observed archly, "I believe you once told me you had
not known many girls in your life."

"True," I said; "why do you ask?"

"I wished to be sure of it," she replied.

And jumping down without my assistance, she laughed and disappeared into
the house.

THE CELEBRITY

By Winston Churchill

VOLUME 3.

CHAPTER IX

That evening I lighted a cigar and went down to sit on the outermost
pile of the Asquith dock to commune with myself. To say that I was
disappointed in Miss Thorn would be to set a mild value on my feelings.
I was angry, even aggressive, over her defence of the Celebrity. I had
gone over to Mohair that day with a hope that some good reason was at the
bottom of her tolerance for him, and had come back without any hope. She
not only tolerated him, but, wonderful to be said, plainly liked him.
Had s