The beginning and the end and all that lay between them could easily have been compassed in three words by Quin. But there were things he had pledged himself to tell her before he even broached the subject that was shrieking for utterance. With painstaking exactness he set forth the facts that led up to his dismissal, trying to be fair to Mr. Bangs as well as to himself, and, above all, to claim no credit for taking the stand he had. But Eleanor would not see it thus. With characteristic fervor she espoused his cause. She declared he had been treated outrageously. He ought to have taken the matter straight to her grandmother. The very idea! After all the work he had done at the factory, for him to be dismissed just because he wouldn't do a thing that he considered dishonorable! She _hated_ Mr. Bangs--she always had hated him; and the more she dwelt upon the fact, the more ardently she approved Quin's course. "It was perfectly splendid of you to refuse his offer!" she cried, and her eyes blazed with that particular ray of feminine partisanship that is most soothing to the injured masculine. "And you won't lose by it in the long run. You'll get another position right off. Why don't you try to get one here in New York?" "Would you like me to?" "I should say I should! Then we could do all sorts of jolly things together. Not studio parties or cabarets, but jolly outdoor things like we used to do at home. Do stay, Quin; won't you?" She was looking up at him with such frank urgency and such entire sympathy that Quin lost his head completely. "Miss Nell," he blurted out, "if I stay and get a job and make good, will you marry me?" Eleanor, who was used to much more subtle manoeuvers, was caught unaware by this sudden attack. For a second she was thrown into confusion; then she rallied all her forces for the defense. "Why, of course I won't!" she said--then added with more conviction: "I am not going to marry _anybody_--not for years and years." "But I'll wait years and years," persisted Quin eagerly. "I wouldn't marry any girl until I could take care of her. But if you'll just give me a tip that maybe some day perhaps----" It was very difficult to go on addressing his remarks to an impassive classic profile--so difficult, in fact, that he abandoned the effort and let his eyes say the rest for him. Eleanor stirred uneasily. "I _wish_ you wouldn't be foolish, Quin, and spoil all our fun. I've told you I mean to go on the stage for good and all. You know you wouldn't want an actress for a wife." "I'd want you, whatever you were," he said with such fervor that she rashly gave him her luminous eyes again in gratitude. He made the most of the opportunity thus offered. "Honest, now!" he boldly challenged her. "You can't deny that you love me just a little bit, can you?"