omed
the inevitable rose.

"Quinby Graham!" he cried in accents of rapture. "My Cassius's beloved
Quin! _My_ beloved Quin! What happy fortune blew you hither? But no
matter. You are here--you are ours. Eleanor and I are going out to a
studio party at a dear, dear friend's. You shall accompany us!"

"Oh, no, Papa Claude," protested Eleanor. "Quin doesn't want to go to
Miss Linton's messy old party. Neither do I. You go and leave us here.
There are a million things I want to ask him."

But Papa Claude would not consider it. "You can ask them to-morrow," he
said. "To-night I claim you both. We will introduce Quinby as one of the
gallant heroes of the Great War. I shall tell his story--no--he shall
tell it! Come, put on your hat, Eleanor; we must start at once."

"But here! Hold on!" protested Quin, laughing and freeing himself from
Papa Claude's encircling arm, "I'm not fixed to go to a party, and I
haven't got any story to tell. I'll clear out and come back to-morrow."

"No, no!" protested Eleanor and Papa Claude in a breath, and after a
brief struggle for supremacy the latter triumphantly continued:

"I promise you shall say nothing, if you prefer it. Modesty is gallantry's
crowning grace. But you _must_ accompany us. My heart is set upon it.
Eleanor darling, here's your wrap. Come, Quinby, my boy!" And the dynamic
little gentleman hooked an arm through each of theirs and, in spite of
their protests, bore them triumphantly down the stairs and off to the
party.

It was not until they had boarded a crowded downtown car and found
themselves wedged in the aisle that Quin and Eleanor managed to have
another word alone.

"It's a shame we had to come!" she pouted, looking up at him from under a
tilted hat-brim that supported three dangling cherries.

"Where are we going?" he asked, thrilled by the discovery that her lips
and the cherries matched.

"To a studio party down in Washington Square. Papa Claude is trying to
get Estelle Linton to play the lead in 'Phantom Love.' You always meet
all sorts of freaks at her parties."

"I didn't come to New York to meet freaks."

"What did you come for?"

"Shall I tell you?"

"Of course--why not?"

"You want to know? Right now?"

He was looking at her with an expression that was never intended to be
worn in a public conveyance, and the thin-faced Polish woman on whose
toes they were all but standing looked at them with such lively
comprehension that Eleanor felt called