s and helplessness that
a dog will chase chickens, or that a stream will run down hill. Women
differ from chickens, however, in the fact that they find pleasure in
being chased by a certain kind of a man. The Celebrity was this kind
of a man. From the moment his valet deposited his luggage in his rooms,
Charles Wrexell Allen became the social hero of Asquith. It is by
straws we are enabled to tell which way the wind is blowing, and I first
noticed his partiality for Miss Trevor from the absence of the lively
conflicts she was wont to have with Farrar. These ceased entirely
after the Celebrity's arrival. It was the latter who now commanded the
conversation at our table.

I was truly sorry for Farrar, for I knew the man, the depth of his
nature, and the scope of the shock. He carried it off altogether too
well, and both the studied lightness of his actions and the increased
carelessness of his manner made me fear that what before was feigned,
might turn to a real bitterness.

For Farrar's sake, if the Celebrity had been content with women in
general, all would have been well; but he was unable to generalize, in
one sense, and to particularize, in another. And it was plain that he
wished to monopolize Miss Trevor, while still retaining a hold upon the
others. For my sake, had he been content with women alone, I should have
had no cause to complain. But it seemed that I had an attraction for
him, second only to women, which I could not account for. And I began
to be cursed with a great deal of his company. Since he was absolutely
impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer, I was
helpless. When he had no engagement he would thrust himself on me. He
seemed to know by intuition--for I am very sure I never told him--what
my amusement was to be the mornings I did not go to the county-seat, and
he would invariably turn up, properly equipped, as I was making my way
with judge Short to the tennis court, or carrying my oars to the water.
It was in vain that I resorted to subterfuge: that I went to bed early
intending to be away before the Celebrity's rising hour. I found he had
no particular rising hour. No matter how early I came down, I would find
him on the veranda, smoking cigarettes, or otherwise his man would be
there with a message to say that his master would shortly join me if I
would kindly wait. And at last I began to realize in my harassed soul
that all elusion was futile, and to take such holidays as I co