love!"

CHAPTER 19

Notwithstanding the fact that the sale of the Martels' house was averted
and Rose's affair with Harold Phipps successfully terminated,
catastrophe, which was evidently due the family, arrived before the
summer had fairly begun. The irrepressible Claude had no sooner weighed
the anchor of responsibility than he set sail for New York to embark once
more on dramatic waters. He had secured a small part in a summer stock
company which would leave him ample time to work on "Phantom Love," which
he confidently counted upon to retrieve his fortunes. The withdrawal of
even his slender contribution to the household expenses made a
difference, especially as Edwin came down with the measles early in July.
Before the boy had got the green shade off his afflicted eyes, Cass was
laid low with typhoid fever.

No other event in the family could have wrought such disastrous results.
Rose was compelled to give up her position to nurse him, and while the
income ceased the expenses piled up enormously.

Nothing was more natural than that Quinby Graham should fling himself
into the breach. His intimacy with Cass had begun on the transport going
to France, and continued with unabated zeal until he was wounded in the
summer of 1918. For six months he had lost sight of him, only to find him
again in the hospital at Camp Zachary Taylor. He was not one to share the
privileges of Cass's home without also sharing its hardships.

"It's a shame we've got to take help from you," said Rose; "just when you
are beginning to get ahead, too!"

"You cut that out," said Quin. "I'd like to know if you didn't take me in
and treat me like one of the family? Ain't Cass the best friend a man
ever had? And wouldn't he do as much and more for me?"

But even Quin's salary failed to meet the emergency. Doctor's bills, drug
bills, grocery bills, became more and more formidable. One day Rose was
reduced to selling two of Papa Claude's autographed photographs.

"I wouldn't do that--yet," said Quin, who had begun to walk to the
factory to save carfare. "Those old boys and girls are his friends; we
can't sell them. I can see him now talking to 'em through his pipe smoke.
I ought to have some junk we can soak. Let's go see."

The investigation resulted in the conversion of a pair of new wing-toed
dancing-shoes and a silver cigarette-case into an ice-bag and an electric
fan.

"I could stand everything else