ent, consultations were held daily concerning new rugs and
curtains. Miss Enid and Miss Isobel gave tentative orders and Madam
promptly countermanded them. Workmen were engaged and dismissed and
reengaged. The door to the room at the head of the stairs, which he knew
to be Eleanor's, now stood open, revealing a pink-and-white bower. Stray
remarks now and then concerning caterers and music and invitations
further excited his fancy, and he waited impatiently for the time when he
should be formally apprised of Eleanor's home-coming.

Never before in his life had he been so inordinately happy. He burst into
song at strange times and places, and had to be spoken to more than once
for whistling in the office. Instead of studying at night, he frequently
lapsed into delectable reveries in which he anticipated the bliss of
being under the same roof with Eleanor. He already heard himself telling
her about his promotions, his work at the university, his capture of her
family. And always he pictured her as listening to him as she had that
day at the Hawaiian Garden, with lips ready to smile or tremble and eyes
that sparkled like little pools of water in the sunlight.

Occasionally reason suggested that she would be at home very little and
that the obnoxious Phipps would be lying in wait for her whenever she
went abroad. But Phipps was forbidden the house, and with such a handicap
as that he surely was out of the running. Besides, Miss Eleanor had
probably forgotten all about the Captain by this time! Thus reassuring
himself, the fatuous Quin loosened the reins of his fancy and rode full
tilt for an inevitable fall.

The first intimation of it came the week before Easter, when Madam
presented him with a handsome watch in recognition of his services. The
gift itself was sufficiently overwhelming, but the formal politeness of
the presentation sounded ominous. Madam suggested almost tactfully, in
conclusion, that, now she was on her feet again, he need not feel
obligated to remain longer.

"But I _don't_ feel obligated!" he burst out impetuously. "I'd rather
stay here than anywhere in the world."

"Well, you can't stay," said Madam, whose small stock of courtesy had
been exhausted on her initial speech. "My granddaughter is bringing some
girls home with her for the Easter vacation, and I need your room."

"But I'll sleep in the third story," urged Quin wildly. "You can billet
me any old place--I don't care _where_ you put me."