f　granitesomething　　between　the　furniture　of　a　Druid　temple　and　that　of　a　Broadway　　beefsteak　dungeon。　　Hung　against　the　walls　were　skins　of　wild　animals　　purchased　in　the　vicinity　of　Eighth　Street　and　University　Place；　New　　York。
  The　rear　of　the　cabin　merged　into　the　cave。　　There　the　hermit　cooked　　his　meals　on　a　rude　stone　hearth。　　With　infinite　patience　and　an　old　　axe　he　had　chopped　natural　shelves　in　the　rocky　walls。　　On　them　stood　　his　stores　of　flour；　bacon；　lard；　talcum…powder；　kerosene；　baking…　powder；　soda…mint　tablets；　pepper；　salt；　and　Olivo…Cremo　Emulsion　for　　chaps　and　roughness　of　the　hands　and　face。
  The　hermit　had　hermited　there　for　ten　years。　　He　was　an　asset　of　the　　Viewpoint　Inn。　　To　its　guests　he　was　second　in　interest　only　to　the　　Mysterious　Echo　in　the　Haunted　Glen。　　And　the　Lover's　Leap　beat　him　　only　a　few　inches；　flat…footed。　　He　was　known　far　（but　not　very　wide；　　on　account　of　the　topography）　as　a。　　scholar　of　brilliant　intellect　　who　had　forsworn　the　world　because　he　had　been　jilted　in　a　love　　affair。　　Every　Saturday　night　the　Viewpoint　Inn　sent　to　him　　surreptitiously　a　basket　of　provisions。　　He　never　left　the　immediate　　outskirts　of　his　hermitage。　　Guests　of　the　inn　who　visited　him　said　　his　store　of　knowledge；　wit；　and　scintillating　philosophy　were　simply　　wonderful；　you　know。
  That　summer　the　Viewpoint　Inn　was　crowded　with　guests。　　So；　on　　Saturday　nights；　there　were　extra　cans　of　tomatoes；　and　sirloin　steak；　　instead　of　〃rounds；〃　in　the　hermit's　basket。
  Now　you　have　the　material　allegations　in　the　case。　　So；　make　way　for　　Romance。
  Evidently　the　hermit　expected　a　visitor。　　He　carefully　combed　his　long　　hair　and　parted　his　apostolic　beard。　　When　the　ninety…eight…cent　　alarm…clock　on　a　stone　shelf　announced　the　hour　of　five　he　picked　up　　his　gunny…sacking　skirts；　brushed　them　carefully；　gathered　an　oaken　　staff；　and　strolled　slowly　into　the　thick　woods　that　surrounded　the　　hermitage。
  He　had　not　long　to　wait。　　Up　the　faint　pathway；　slippery　with　its　　carpet　of　pine…needles；　toiled　Beatrix；　youngest　and　fairest　of　the　　famous　Trenholme　sisters。　　She　was　all　in　blue　from　hat　to　canvas　　pumps；　varying　in　tint　from　the　shade　of　the　tinkle　of　a　bluebell　at　　daybreak　on　a　spring　Saturday　to　the　deep　hue　of　a　Monday　morning　at　　nine　when　the　washer…woman　has　failed　to　show　up。
  Beatrix　dug　her　cerulean　parasol　deep　into　the　pine…needles　and　　sighed。　　The　hermit；　on　the　q。　　t。；　removed　a　grass　burr　from　the　　ankle　of　one　sandalled　foot　with　the　big　toe　of　his　other　one。
  She　bluedand　almost　starched　and　ironed　himwith　her　cobalt　eyes。
  〃It　must　be　so　nice；〃　she　said　in　little；　tremulous　gasps；　〃to　be　a　　hermit；　and　have　ladies　climb　mountains　to　talk　to　you。〃
  The　hermit　folded　his　arms　and　leaned　against　a　tree。　　Beatrix；　with　a　　sigh；　settled　down　upon　the　mat　of　pine…needles　like　a　bluebird　upon　　her　nest。　　The　hermit　followed　suit；　drawing　his　feet　rather　awkwardly　　under　his　gunny…sacking。
  〃It　must　be　nice　to　be　a　mountain；〃　said　he；　with　ponderous　lightness；　　〃and　have　angels　in　blue　climb　up　you　instead　of　flying　over　you。〃
  〃Mamma　had　neuralgia；〃　said　Beatrix；　〃and　went　to　bed；　or　I　couldn't　　have　come。　　It's　dreadfully　hot　at　that　horrid　old　inn。　　But　we　hadn't　　the　money　to　go　anywhere　else　this　summer。〃
  〃Last　night；〃　said　the　hermit；　〃I　climbed　to　the　top　of　that　big　rock　　above　us。　　I　could　see　the　lights　of　the　inn　and　hear　a　strain　or　two　　of　the　music　when　the　wind　was　right。　　I　imagined　you　moving　　gracefully　in　the　arms　of　others　to　the　dreamy　music　of　the　waltz　amid　　the　fragrance　of　flowers。　　Think　how　lonely　I　must　have　been！〃
  The　youngest；　handsomest；　and　poorest　of　the　famous　Trenholme　sisters　　sighed。
  〃You　haven't　quite　hit　it；〃　she　said；　plaintively。　　〃I　was　moving　　gracefully　at　the　arms　of　another。　　Mamma　had　one　of　her　periodical　　attacks　of　rheumatism　in　both　elbows　and　shoulders；　and　I　had　to　rub　　them　for　an　hour　with　that　horrid　old　liniment。　　I　hope　you　didn't　　think　that　smelled　like　flowers。　　You　know；　there　were　some　West　Point　　boys　and　a　yachtload　of　young　men　from　the　city　at　last　evening's　　weekly　dance。　　I've　known　mamma　to　sit　by　an　open　window　for　three　　hours　with　one…half　of　her　registering　85　degrees　and　the　other　half　　frostbitten；　and　never　sneeze　once。　　But　just　let　a　bunch　of　　ineligibles　come　around　where　I　am；　and　she'll　begin　to　swell　at　the　　knuckles　and　shriek　with　pain。　　And　I　have　to　take　her　to　her　room　and　　rub　her　arms。　　To　see　mamma　dressed　you'd　be　surprised　to　know　the　　number　of　square　inches　of　surface　there　are　to　her　arms。　　I　think　it　　must　be　delightful　to　be　a　hermit。　　Thatcassock　gabardine；　isn't　　it？that　you　wear　is　so　becoming。　　Do　you　make　itor　themof　course　　you　must　have　changes…　yourself？　　And　what　a　blessed　relief　it　must　be　　to　wear　sandals　instead　of　shoes！　　Think　how　we　must　sufferno　matter　　how　small　I　buy　my　shoes　they　always　pinch　my　toes。　　Oh；　why　can't　　there　be　lady　hermits；　too！〃
  The　beautifulest　and　most　adolescent　Trenholme　sister　extended　two　　slender　blue　ankles　that　ended　in　two　enormous　blue…silk　bows　that　　almost　concealed　two　fairy　Oxfords；　also　of　one　of　the　forty…seven　　shades　of　blue。　　The　hermit；　as　if　impelled　by　a　kind　of　reflex…　telepathic　action；　drew　his　bare　toes　farther　beneath　his　gunny…　sacking。
  〃I　have　heard　about　the　romance　of　your　life；〃　said　Miss　Trenholme；　　softly。　　〃They　have　it　printed　on　the　back　of　the　menu　card　at　the　　inn。　　Was　she　very　beautiful　and　charming？〃
  〃On　the　bills　of　fare！〃　muttered　the　hermit；　〃but　what　do　I　care　for　　the　world's　babble？　　Yes；　she　was　of　the　highest　and　grandest　type。　　　Then；〃　he　continued；　〃then　I　thought　the　world　could　never　contain　　another　equal　to　her。　　So　I　forsook　it　and　repaired　to　this　mountain　　fastness　to　spend　the　remainder　of　my　life　aloneto　devote　and　　dedicate　my　remaining　years　to　her　memory。〃
  〃It's　grand；〃　said　Miss　Trenholme；　〃absolutely　grand。　　I　think　a　　hermit's　life　is　the　ideal　one。　　No　bill…collectors　calling；　no　　dressing　for　dinnerhow　I'd　like　to　be　one！　　But　there's　no　such　luck　　for　me。　　If　I　don't　marry　this　season　I　honestly　believe　mamma　will　　force　me　into　settlement　work　or　trimming　hats。　　It　isn't　because　I'm　　getting　old　or　ugly；　but　we　haven't　enough　money　left　to　butt　in　at　　any　of　the　swell　places　any　more。　　And　I　don't　want　to　marryunless　　it's　somebody　I　like。　　That's　why　I'd　like　to　be　a　hermit。　　Hermits　　don't　ever　marry；　do　they　？〃
  〃Hundreds　of　'em；〃　said　the　hermit；　〃when　they've　found　the　right　　one。〃
  〃But　they're　hermits；〃　said　the　youngest　and　beautifulest；　〃because　　they've　lost　the　right　one；　aren't　they？〃
  〃Because　they　think　they　have；〃　answered　the　recluse；　fatuously。　　　〃Wisdom　comes　to　one　in　a　mountain　cave　as　well　as　to　one　in　the　world　　of　'swells；'　as　I　believe　they　are　called　in　the　argot。〃
  〃When　one　of　the　'swells'　brings　it　to　them；〃　said　Miss　Trenholme。　　　〃And　my　folks　are　swells。　　That's　the　trouble。　　But　there　are　so　many　　swells　at　the　seashore　in　the　summer…time　that　we　hardly　amount　to　　more　than　ripples。　　So　we've　had　to　put　all　our　money　into　river　and　　harbor　appropriations。　　We　were　all　girls；　you　know。　　There　were　four　　of　us。　　I'm　the　only　surviving　one。　　The　others　have　been　married　off。　　　All　to　money。　　Mamma　is　so　proud　of　my　sisters。　　They　send　her　the　　loveliest　pen…wipers　and　art　calendars　every　Christmas。　　I'm　the　only　　one　on　the　market　now。　　I'm　forbidden　to　look　at　any　one　who　hasn't　　money。〃
  〃But〃　began　the　hermit。
  〃But；　oh；〃　said　the　beautifulest　〃of　course　hermits　have　great　pots　of　　gold　and　doubloons　buried　somewhere　near　three　great　oak…trees。　　They　　all　have。〃
  〃I　have　not；〃　said　the　hermit；　regretfully。
  〃I'm　so　sorry；〃　said　Miss　Trenholme。　　〃I　always　thought　they　had。　　I　　think　I　must　go　now。〃
  Oh；　beyond　question；　she　was　the　beautifulest。
  〃Fair　lady〃　began　the　hermit。
  〃I　am　Beatrix　Trenholmesome　call　me　Trix；〃　she　said。　　〃You　must　come　　to　the　inn　to　see　me。〃
  〃I　haven't　been　a　stone'sthrow　from　my　cave　in　ten　years；〃　said　the　　hermit。
  〃You　must　come　to　see　me　there；〃　she　repeated。　　〃Any　evening　except　　Thursday。〃
  The　hermit　smiled　weakly。
  〃Good…bye；〃　she　said；　gathering　the　folds　of　her　pale…blue　skirt。　　〃I　　shall　expect　you。　　But　not　on　Thursday　evening；　remember。〃
  What　an　interest　it　would　give　to　the　future　menu　cards　of　the　　Viewpoint　Inn　to　have　these　printed　lines　added　to　them：　〃Only　once　　during　the　more　than　ten　years　of　his　lonely　existence　did　the　　mountain　hermit　leave　his　famous　cave。　　That　was　when　he　was　　irresistibly　drawn　to　the　inn　by　the　fascinations　of　Miss　Beatrix　　Trenholme；　youngest　and　most　beautiful　of　the　celebrated　Trenholme　　sisters；　whose　brilliant　marriage　to〃
  Aye；　to　whom？
  The　hermit　walked　back　to　the　hermitage。　　At　the　door　stood　Bob　　Binkley；　his　old　friend　and　companion　of　the　days　before　he　had　　renounced　the　worldBob；　himself；　arrayed　like　the　orchids　of　the　　greenhouse　in　the　summer　man's　polychromatic　garbBob；　the　　millionaire；　with　his　fat；　firm；　smooth；　shrewd　face；　his　diamond　　rings；　sparkling　fob…chain；　and　pleated　bosom。　　He　was　two　years　older　　than　the　hermit；　and　looked　five　years　younger。
  〃You're　Hamp　Ellison；　in　spite　of　those　whi