bought a place near Epsom, in Massachusetts, and had a house party there
in May. And the Celebrity was invited."

I smiled.

"Oh, I assure you it was a mere chance," said Miss Thorn. "I mention
this that I may tell you the astonishing part of it all. Epsom is one of
those smoky manufacturing towns one sees in New England, and the 'Miles
Standish' bicycle is made there. The day after we all arrived at my
aunt's a man came up the drive on a wheel whom I greeted in a friendly
way and got a decidedly uncertain bow in return.

"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.