“Mr. Allen done gone for good,” he put in, “done give me five dollars 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 amuse her by relating a few of my experiences at the bar, and I told that memorable story of Farrar throwing O’Meara into the street.  We were getting along famously, when we descried another canoe passing us at some distance, and we both recognized the Celebrity at the paddle by the flannel jacket of his college boat club.  And Miss Thorn sat in the bow!

“Do you know anything about that man, Miss Trevor?” I asked abruptly.