“I thought it rather a strange shift from a marked cordiality, and spoke of the circumstance to my aunt, who was highly amused.  ‘Why, my dear,’ said she, ’that was Mr. Allen, of the bicycle company.  I was nearly deceived myself.’”

“And is the resemblance so close as that?” I exclaimed.

“So close!  Believe me, they are as like as two ices from a mould.  Of course, when they are together one can distinguish the Celebrity from the bicycle man.  The Celebrity’s chin is a little more square, and his nose straighter, and there are other little differences.  I believe Mr. Allen has a slight scar on his forehead.  But the likeness was remarkable, nevertheless, and it grew to be a standing joke with us.  They actually dressed ludicrously alike.  The Celebrity became so sensitive about it that he went back to New York before the party broke up.  We grew to be quite fond of the bicycle man.”

She paused and shifted her chair, which had rocked close to mine.

“And can you account for his coming to Asquith?” I asked innocently.

She was plainly embarrassed.

“I suppose I might account for it, Mr. Crocker,” she replied.  Then she added, with something of an impulse, “After all, it is foolish of me not to tell you.  You probably know the Celebrity well enough to have learned that he takes idiotic fancies to young women.”

“Not always idiotic,” I protested.

“You mean that the young women are not always idiotic, I suppose.  No, not always, but nearly always.  I imagine he got the idea of coming to Asquith,” she went on with a change of manner, “because I chanced to mention that I was coming out here on a visit.”

“Oh,” I remarked, and there words failed me.

Her mouth was twitching with merriment.

“I am afraid you will have to solve the rest of it for yourself, Mr. Crocker,” said she; “that is all of my contribution.  My uncle tells me you are the best lawyer in the country, and I am surprised that you are so slow in getting at motives.”

And I did attempt to solve it on my way back to Asquith.  The conclusion I settled to, everything weighed, was this:  that the Celebrity had become infatuated with Miss Thorn (I was far from blaming him for that) and had followed her first to Epsom and now to Asquith.  And he had chosen to come West incognito partly through the conceit which he admitted and gloried in, and partly because he believed his prominence sufficient to obtain for him an unpleasant notoriety if he continued long enough to track the same young lady about the country.  Hence he had taken the trouble to advertise a trip abroad to account for his absence.  Undoubtedly his previous conquests had been made more easily, for my second talk with Miss Thorn had put my mind at rest as to her having fallen a victim to his fascinations.  Her arrival at Mohair being delayed, the Celebrity had come nearly a month too soon, and in the interval that tendency of which he was the dupe still led him by the nose; he must needs make violent love to the most attractive girl on the ground,—­Miss Trevor.  Now that one still more attractive had arrived I was curious to see how he would steer between the two, for I made no doubt that matters had progressed rather far with Miss Trevor.  And in this I was not mistaken.