should have come back into my life, transformed, to make it more or less miserable.  The county-seat being several miles inland, and lying in the midst of hills, could get intolerably hot in September.  At last I was driven out in spite of myself, and I arrived at Asquith cross and dusty.  As Simpson was brushing me off, Miss Trevor came up the path looking cool and pretty in a summer gown, and her face expressed sympathy.  I have never denied that sympathy was a good thing.

“Oh, Mr. Crocker,” she cried, “I am so glad you are back again!  We have missed you dreadfully.  And you look tired, poor man, quite worn out.  It is a shame you have to go over to that hot place to work.”

I agreed with her.

“And I never have any one to take me canoeing any more.”

“Let’s go now,” I suggested, “before dinner.”

So we went.  It was a keen pleasure to be on the lake again after the sultry court-rooms and offices, and the wind and exercise quickly brought back my appetite and spirits.  I paddled hither and thither, stopping now and then to lie under the pines at the mouth of some stream, while Miss Trevor talked.  She was almost a child in her eagerness to amuse me with the happenings since my departure.  This was always her manner with me, in curious contrast to her habit of fencing and playing with words when in company.  Presently she burst out: 

“Mr. Crocker, why is it that you avoid Miss Thorn?  I was talking of you to her only to-day, and she says you go miles out of your way to get out of speaking to her; that you seemed to like her quite well at first.  She couldn’t understand the change.”

“Did she say that?” I exclaimed.

“Indeed, she did; and I have noticed it, too.  I saw you leave before coffee more than once when she was here.  I don’t believe you know what a fine girl she is.”

“Why, then, does she accept and return the attentions of the Celebrity?” I inquired, with a touch of acidity.  “She knows what he is as well, if not better, than you or I. I own I can’t understand it,” I said, the subject getting ahead of me.  “I believe she is in love with him.”

Miss Trevor began to laugh; quietly at first, and, as her merriment increased, heartily.

“Shouldn’t we be getting back?” I asked, looking at my watch.  “It lacks but half an hour of dinner.”

“Please don’t be angry, Mr. Crocker,” she pleaded.  “I really couldn’t help laughing.”

“I was unaware I had said anything funny, Miss Trevor,” I replied.

“Of course you didn’t,” she said more soberly; “that is, you didn’t intend to.  But the very notion of Miss Thorn in love with the Celebrity is funny.”

“Evidence is stronger than argument,” said I.  “And now she has even convicted herself.”

I started to paddle homeward, rather furiously, and my companion said nothing until we came in sight of the inn.  As the canoe glided into the smooth surface behind the breakwater, she broke the silence.