whose name it pleased him to assume. And that man, I learn from the
newspapers, is Mr. Charles Wrexell Allen of the 'Miles Standish Bicycle
Company.'"

Miss Thorn made a comic gesture of despair.

"Why he chose Mr. Allen's name," she said, "is absolutely beyond my
guessing. Unless there is some purpose behind the choice, which I do not
for an instant believe, it was a foolish thing to do, and one very apt to
lead to difficulties. I can understand the rest. He has a reputation
for eccentricity which he feels he must keep up, and this notion of
assuming a name evidently appealed to him as an inspiration."

"But why did he come out here?" I asked. "Can you tell me that?"

Miss Thorn flushed slightly, and ignored the question.

"I met the 'Celebrity,' as you call him," she said, "for the first time
last winter, and I saw him frequently during the season. Of course
I had heard not a little about him and his peculiarities. His name seems
to have gone the length and breadth of the land. And, like most girls,
I had read his books and confess I enjoyed them. It is not too much to
say," she added archly, "that I made a sort of archangel out of the
author."

"I can understand that," said I.

"But that did not last," she continued hastily. "I see I have got beside
my story. I saw a great deal of him in New York. He came to call, and I
believe I danced with him once or twice. And then my aunt, Mrs. Rivers,