On one occasion Miss Isobel was so outraged by his familiar attitude toward her mother that she plucked up courage to remonstrate with him; but Madam, instead of appreciating the interference on her behalf, promptly turned upon her defender. "Now, Isobel," she said caustically, "_you_ may be old enough to want men to respect you, but I am young enough to want them to like me. You leave young Graham alone." Quin meanwhile, in spite of his arduous duties at the office and at home, was living in a world of dreams. The privilege of hearing Eleanor's name frequently mentioned, of getting bits of news of her from time to time, the exciting possibility of being under the same roof with her when she returned, supplied the days with thrilling zest. Since her teasing note in answer to his double-barreled communication, he had written but once and received no answer; but he knew that she was expected home for the Easter vacation, and he lived on that prospect. One evening, when he was summoned to Madam's room to shorten her new crutches, he realized that the all-important subject was under discussion. "Isn't that exactly like her?" Madam was saying. "Refusing to go in the first place, and now objecting to coming home." "Well, it isn't especially gay for her here, is it?" Miss Enid ventured in feeble defense. "I am afraid we are rather dull company for a young girl." "Well, make it gay," commanded Madam. "You and Isobel aren't so old and feeble that you can't think of some way to entertain young people." "A tea?" suggested Miss Enid. "A tea would never tempt Eleanor. She's too much her mother's child to enjoy anything so staid and respectable." "Why don't you give her a dance?" suggested Quin enthusiastically, looking up from his work. "Give who a dance?" demanded Madam in surprise. "Miss Eleanor," said Quin, bending over his work and blushing to the roots of his stubby hair. The three ladies exchanged startled glances; then Miss Enid said: "Of course. I had forgotten that you met her the night of the accident. I wonder if we _could_ give the dear child a party?" "It is not to be thought of," said Miss Isobel, "with no regular butler, and mother ill----" "I tell you, I'm _not_ ill!" snapped Madam. "I intend to be up and about by Easter. I'll give as many parties as I like. Hurry up with those crutches, Graham; do you think I am going to wait all night?" One of Quin's first acts upon coming into the house had been to aid and abet Madam in her determination to use her injured leg. Dr. Rawlins had infuriated her by his pessimistic warnings and his dark suggestions of a wheeled chair. "We'll show 'em what you can do when you get that cast off," Quin had reassured her with the utmost confidence. "I've limbered up heaps of stiff legs for the fellows. It takes patience and grit. I got the patience and you got the grit, so there we are!"