"Well, it's like this," Quin plunged into his subject. "Next July Miss Nell will be of age and have her own money to do as she likes with, won't she?"

"She won't have much," interpolated Madam. "Twenty thousand won't take her far."

"It will take her to New York and let her live pretty fine for two or three years. Everybody will cotton up to her and flatter her and make her think she's a second Julia Marlowe, and meantime they'll be helping her spend her money. Now, my plan is this. Why don't you give her just barely enough to live on, and let her try it out on the seamy side for the next six months? n.o.body will know who she is or what's coming to her, and maybe when she comes up against the real thing she won't be so keen about it."

Madam followed him closely, and for a moment it looked as if the common sense of his argument appealed to her. Then her face set like a vise.

"No!" she thundered her decision. "It would be nothing less than handing her over bodily to that pompous old biped Claude Martel! For the next six months she has got to stay right here, where I can know what she is doing and where she is!"

"Do you know where she was last night?" Quin played his last trump.

She shot a suspicious look at him from under her s.h.a.ggy brows.

"You said she was at the Martels'."

"I did not. I said she was all right and you'd hear from her to-day."

"Where was she?"

"She was on the way to Chicago to join Mr. Phipps."

He could not have aimed his blow more accurately. Its effect was so appalling that he feared the consequences. Her face blanched to an ashy white and her eyes were fixed with terror.

"She--she--hasn't married him?" she cried hoa.r.s.ely.

"No, no; not yet. But she may any time."

"Good Lord! Why haven't you told me this before? Call Isobel! No! she's at church! Get Ranny! Somebody must go after the child!"

Quin laid a quieting hand on her arm, which was shaking as if with the palsy.

"Don't get excited," he urged. "Somebody did go after her last night, and brought her home."

"But where is she now? Where is that contemptible Phipps? I'll have him arrested! Are you sure Nellie is safe?"

"I left her safe and sound at the Martels' half an hour ago. Will you listen while I tell you all about it?"

As quietly as he could he told the story, interrupted again and again by Madam's hysterical outbursts. When he had finished she struggled to her feet.

"The child is stark mad!" she cried. "I am going after her this instant."

"She won't see you," warned Quin.

"I'll show you whether she sees me or not! I am going to bring her home with me to-night. She's got to be protected against that scoundrel. Ring for the carriage!"

Quin did not move. "She said if any of you started after her you'd find her gone when you got there."

"But who will tell her?"

"I will. I promised she wouldn't have to see you. It was the only way I could get her back from Chicago."

She scowled at him in silence, measuring his determination against her own.

"Very well," she said at last. "Since you are in such high favor, go and tell her that she can come home, and nothing more will be said about it.

I suppose there's nothing else to do under the circ.u.mstances. But I'll teach her a lesson later!"

Quin balanced the paper-knife carefully on one finger.

"I don't think you quite understand," he said. "She isn't coming home.

She still says she is going to marry Mr. Phipps. He will probably get her telegram when he goes to the hotel, and when she doesn't turn up in Chicago he will take the first train down here. That's the way I've figured it out."

"And do you think I am going to sit here, and do nothing while all this is taking place?"

"No; that's what I been driving at all along. I want you and Miss Nell to come to some compromise before he gets here."

"What sort of compromise? Haven't I swallowed my pride and promised to say nothing if she comes back? Does she want me to get down on my knees and apologize?"

"No. That's the trouble. She don't want you to do anything. All she is thinking about is getting married and going to New York."

"She can go to New York without that! That contemptible man! I knew all summer he was filling her head with romantic notions, but I never dreamed of this. Why, she's nothing but a child! She doesn't know what love is----" Then her voice broke in sudden panic. "We must stop it at any cost. Go--go promise her anything. Tell her I'll send her to New York, to Europe, anywhere to get her out of that wretch's clutches. My poor child!

My poor baby!"

Her grief was no less violent than her anger had been, and her tearless sobs almost shook her worn old frame to pieces.

Quin knew just how she felt. It had been like that with him last night when he heard the news. With one stride he was beside her and had gathered her into his arms.

"There, there!" he said tenderly. "It's going to be all right. We are going to find a way out."

This unexpected caress, probably the first one Madam had received in many years, reduced her to a state of unprecedented humility. She transferred her resentment from Eleanor to Harold Phipps, and announced herself ready to follow whatever course Quin suggested.

"I'd offer her just this and nothing more," he advised: "The fare to New York, tuition at the dramatic school, and ten dollars a week."

"She can't live on that."

"Yes, she can. Rose Martel does."

Madam became truculent at once.

"Don't quote that girl to me. Eleanor's been used to very different surroundings."

"That's the point. Let her have what she hasn't been used to. You have tried giving her a bunch of your money and telling her how to spend it.

Try giving her a little of her own and letting her do as she likes with it."

"I don't care what she does for the present, if she just won't marry that man Phipps. Make her give you her word of honor not to have anything whatever to do with him for the next six months. By that time she will have forgotten all about him."

"I'll do my best," said Quin, rising. "You'll hear from me first thing in the morning."

"Well, go now! But ring first for Hannah. We must pack the child's things to-night. The main thing is to get her out of town before that hound can get here. Don't you think either Ranny or Isobel had better take her on to New York to-morrow?"