," said Rose, "if we could just get the
children out of the house. Edwin is still as weak as a kitten, and Myrna
looks as if she might come down with the fever any day."

Quin had a brilliant idea. "Why not ship 'em both to the country? Ed
could come to town to work every day, and Myrna could help somebody
around the house."

"That sounds mighty fine; but who is going to take two children to board
for nothing?"

"I don't know yet," said Quin; "that's what I've got to find out."

That night he went out to Valley Mead and put the matter squarely up to
Mr. and Mrs. Ranny.

"We're up against it at our house," he said; "I want to borrow something
from you two good people."

"You can have anything we've got!" said Mr. Ranny rashly.

"Well, I want to borrow some fresh air for a couple of sick kids. I want
you to ask 'em out here for a week."

Mr. and Mrs. Ranny looked aghast at the preposterous suggestion, but Quin
gave them no time to demur. He plunged into explanation, and clinched his
argument by saying:

"Ed would only be here at night, and Myrna could help around the house.
They are bully youngsters. No end of fun, and they wouldn't give you a
bit of trouble."

"But I have only one maid!" protested Mrs. Ranny.

"What of that?" said Quin. "Myrna's used to working at home; she'd be
glad to help you."

"If it was anybody on earth but the Martels," Mr. Ranny objected, with
contracted brow. "The families have been at daggers' points for years.
Why, the very name of Martel makes mother see red."

"Well, the children aren't responsible for that!" Quin broke in
impatiently; then he pulled himself up. "However, if you don't want to do
'em a good turn, that settles it."

"But it doesn't settle it," said Mr. Ranny. "What are you going to do
with them?"

"Hanged if I know," said Quin; "but you bet I'll do something."

The conversation then wandered off to Eleanor, and Quin listened with
vague misgivings to accounts of her good times--yachting parties, tennis
tournaments, rock teas, shore dinners--all of which suggested to him an
appallingly unfamiliar world.

"I tell you who was up there for a week," said Mr. Ranny. "Harold Phipps.
You remember meeting him at our apartment last spring?"

"What's he doing there?" Quin demanded with such vehemence that they both
laughed.

"Probably making life miserable for Mother Bartlett," said Mrs. Ranny. "I
can't imagine how she ever consented to have him come, or how he ev