The Witness Part 18

"He thinks I really ought to go," said Bonnie to the nurse, who had just returned.

"Didn't I tell you so, dear?" said the nurse.

"How soon would the doctor let her travel?" asked Courtland.

"Why, I'll go ask him. You want to put it in your message, don't you?"

"She's a dear!" said Bonnie, with a tender look after her.

"_Isn't_ she a peach!" seconded Courtland, enthusiastically.

The nurse was back almost at once, reporting that Bonnie might travel by the middle of the week if all went well.

"But could I get ready to go so soon?" said the girl, a shade of trouble coming into her eyes. "I must go back and pack up my things, you know, and clean the room."

Courtland and the nurse exchanged meaningful glances.

"Now look here!" began Courtland, with his engaging smile. "Why couldn't the nurse and I do all that's necessary? How about to-morrow afternoon?

Could you get off awhile, Miss Wright? I don't have any basket-ball practice till Tuesday, and I could get off right after dinner. Miss Brentwood, you could tell the nurse just what you want done with your things, and I'll warrant she and I have sense enough to pack up one little room."

After some persuasion Bonnie half consented, and then they attended to the telegram.

Your wonderful invitation accepted with deep grat.i.tude. Will start as soon as able. Probably Wednesday night. Will write.

ROSE BONNER BRENTWOOD.

was what they finally evolved. Bonnie had been divided between a desire to save words and a longing to show her appreciation of the kindness.

But the strangest thing of all was that, in his eagerness, the paper Courtland fumbled out from his pocket to write it upon was Gila Dare's unopened letter, reeking with violets. He frowned as he realized it, and stuffed it back in his pocket again.

Courtland enjoyed sending that telegram. He enjoyed it so much that he sent another along with it on his own account, which read:

Three cheers for the best mother in the United States! She's coming and you ought to see her eyes s.h.i.+ne!

It was on the way back to the university that he happened to remember Gila's letter.

CHAPTER XVIII

MY DEAR MR. COURTLAND:

The very first line translated Courtland into another world from the one in which he had been living during the past three days. Its perfumed breath struck harshly on his soul.

I am writing to report on the case of the poor girl whom you asked me to help. I was very anxious to please you and did my best; but you remember that I warned you that persons of that sort were likely to be most difficult and ungrateful--indeed, quite impossible sometimes. And so, perhaps, you will be somewhat prepared for the disappointing report I have to give.

I went to the hospital this afternoon, putting off several engagements to do so. I was quite surprised to find the girl in a private room, but of course your kindness made that possible for her, which makes her utter ingrat.i.tude all the more unpardonable.

I took with me several very pretty frocks of my own, quite good, some of them scarcely worn at all, for I know girls of that sort care more for clothes than anything else. But I found her quite sullen and disagreeable. She wouldn't look at the things I had brought, although I suggested several ways in which I intended to help her and make it possible for her to have a few friends of her own cla.s.s who would make her forget her troubles. She just lay and stared at me and said, quite impertinently, that she didn't remember ever having met me. And when I mentioned your name she denied ever having seen you. She even dared to ask me to leave the room. And the nurse was most insulting.

But don't worry about it in the least, for papa has promised to have the nurse removed at once from her position, and blacklisted, so that she can't ever get another place in a decent hospital.

I am afraid you will be disappointed in your protegee, and I am awfully sorry, for I would have enjoyed doing her good; but you see how impossible it was.

You are not to feel put out that I was treated that way, for I really enjoyed doing something for you; and you know it is good for one to suffer sometimes. I'll be delighted to go slumming for you any time again that you say, and please don't mind asking me. It's much better for me to look after any girls that need help than it is for you, because girls of that sort are so likely to impose upon a young man's sympathies.

My cousin has been telling me how you have been looking after some of the work of a student who is majoring in sociology, so I'm beginning to understand why you took this girl up. I do hope you'll let me help. Suppose you run over this evening and we can talk it over. I'm giving up two whole engagements to stay at home for you, so I hope you will properly appreciate it, and if anything hinders your coming, would you mind calling up and letting me know?

Hoping to see you this evening, Your true friend and fellow-worker, GILA DARE.

The letter struck a false note in the harmony of the day. It annoyed Courtland beyond expression that he had made such a blunder as to send Gila after Bonnie. He could not understand why Gila had not had better discernment than to think Bonnie an object of charity. His indignation was still burning over the trouble and peril her action had brought to Bonnie. Yet he hated to have his opinion of Gila shaken. He had arranged it in his mind that she was a sweet and lovely girl, one in every way similar to Solveig the innocent, and he did not care to change it. He tried to remember Gila's conventional upbringing, and realize that she had no conception of a girl out of her own social circle other than as a menial to whom to condescend. The vision of her loveliness in rose and silver, with her prayer-book "in her 'kerchief" was still dimly forcing him to be at least polite and accept her letter of apology for her failure, as he could but suppose it was sincerely meant.

Then all at once a new fact dawned upon him. The invitation had been for Sat.u.r.day evening! This was Sunday evening! And now what was he to do? He might call her up and apologize, but what could he say. Bill Ward might have told her by this time that he knew the letter had been received. A blunt confession that he had forgotten to read it might offend, yet what else could he do? It was most annoying!

He went to the telephone as soon as he reached the college. The fellows had already gone down to the evening meal. He could hear the clink of china and silver in the distant dining-room. It was a good time to 'phone.

A moment, and Gila's cool contralto answered: "_Hel_-lo-_oo_!" There was something about the way that Gila said that word that conveyed a whole lot of things, instantly putting the caller at his distance, but placing the lady on a pedestal before which it became most desirable to bow.

"This is Paul Courtland!"

"Oh! Mr. Courtland!" Her voice was freezing.

But Courtland was not used to being frozen out. "I owe you an apology, Miss Dare," he said, with dignity. He didn't care how blunt he sounded now. It always angered him to be frozen! "Your letter reached me just as I was leaving here last evening on a very important errand. I put it in my pocket, but I have been so occupied that it escaped my mind utterly until just now. I hope I did not cause you much inconvenience."

"Oh, it really didn't _mattah_ in the _least_!" answered Gila, indifferently. Nothing could be colder or more distant than her voice, and yet there was something in it this time, a subtle lure, that exasperated. A teasing little something at his spirit demanded to be set right in her eyes--to have her the suppliant rather than himself.

"I really am awfully ashamed," he said, in quite a boyish, humble tone, and then gasped at himself. What was there about Gila that always "got a fellow's goat"?

After that Gila had the conversation quite where she wanted it, and finally she told him sweetly that he might come over this evening if he chose. She had other engagements, but she would break them all for him.

"Suppose you go to church with me this evening," he temporized. "I've found a minister I'd like to have you hear. He's quite original!"

There was a distinct pause at the other end of the 'phone, while Gila's little white teeth came cruelly into her red under lip, and her pearly forehead drew the straight, black, penciled brows naughtily. Then she answered, in sweetly honeyed tones:

"Why, that would be lovely! Perhaps I will. What time do we start?"

Something in her tone annoyed him, despite his satisfaction at having induced her to be friends again. Almost it sounded like a false note in the day again. He hadn't expected her to go. Now she was going, he was very sure he didn't want her.

"I warn you that it is among very common people in the lower part of the city," he said, almost severely.

"Oh, that's all right!" she declared, graciously. "I'm sure it will be dandy! I certainly do enjoy new experiences!"

He hung up the 'phone with far greater misgivings than he had felt when he asked her to call on Bonnie.

Bill Ward was called out of the dining-room to the telephone almost as soon as Courtland got down to the table.

It was Gila on the phone: "Is that you Bill? Well, Bill, this is Gila.