"Then you didn't feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"The Presence of G.o.d in that place!"

There was something so simple and majestic about the way Courtland made the extraordinary statement--not as a common fanatic would make it, nor even as one who was testing and feeling around for confirmation of a hope, but as one who knew it to be a fact beyond questioning, which the other merely hadn't been able to see--that Tennelly was almost embarra.s.sed.

"Why--I-- Why--no! I can't say that I noticed any particular manifestation. I was entirely too much taken up by the smell to observe the occult. Say, what's eating you, anyway, Court? Such foolishness isn't like you. You ought to cut it out. You know a thing like this can get on your nerves if you let it, just like anything else, and make you a monomaniac. You ought to go in for more athletics and cut out some of your psychology and philosophy. Suppose we go and take a ride in the park this afternoon. It's a great day."

"I don't mind riding in the park for a while after dinner. I've got a date about four o'clock. But I'm not a monomaniac, Nelly, and nothing's getting on my nerves. I never felt better or happier in my life. I feel as if I'd been blind always, been sort of groping my way, and had just got my eyes open to see what a wonderful thing life really is."

"Do you mean you've got what they used to call 'religion,' Court? 'Hit the trail,' as it were?" Tennelly asked as if he were delicately inquiring about some insidious tubercular or cancerous trouble. He seemed half ashamed to connect such a perilous possibility with his honored friend.

Courtland shook his head. "Not that I know of, Nelly. I never attended one of those big evangelistic meetings in my life, and I don't know exactly what 'religion,' as they call it, is, so I can't lay claim to anything of that sort. What I mean is, simply, I've met G.o.d face to face and found He's my friend. That's about the size of it, and it makes things all look different. I'd like to tell you about it just as it happened some time, Tennelly, when you're ready to hear."

"Wait awhile, Court," said Tennelly, half shrinking. "Wait till you've had a little more time to think it over. Then if you like I'll listen."

"Very well," said Courtland, quietly. "But I want you to know it's something real. It's no sick fancies."

"All right!" said Tennelly. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to hear."

Late that afternoon, when Courtland entered the hospital, the sunshine was flooding the great stained-gla.s.s window and glorifying the face of the Christ with the outstretched hands. Off in a near-by ward some one was singing to the patients, and the corridors seemed hushed to listen:

The healing of the seamless dress Is by our beds of pain.

We touch Him in life's throng and press And we are whole again!

All this recognition of the Christ in the world, and somehow it had never come to his consciousness before! He felt abashed at his blindness. And if he had been so long, surely there was hope for Tennelly to see, too. Somehow, he wanted Tennelly to see!

CHAPTER XVII

Bonnie Brentwood was awake and expecting him, the nurse said. She lay propped up by pillows, draped about with a dainty, frilly dressing-sacque that looked too frivolous for Nurse Wright, yet could surely have come from no other source. The golden hair was lying in two long braids, one over each shoulder, and there was a faint flush of expectancy on her pale cheeks.

"You have been so good to me!" she said. "It has been wonderful for a stranger to go out of his way so much."

"Please don't let's talk about that!" said Courtland. "It's been only a pleasure to be of service. Now I want to know how you are. I've been expecting to hear that you had pneumonia or something dreadful after that awful exposure."

"Oh, I've been through a good deal more than that," said the girl, trying to speak lightly. "Things don't seem to kill me. I've had quite a lot of hard times."

"I'm afraid you have," he said, gravely. "Somehow it doesn't seem fair that you should have had such a rotten time of it, and I be lying around enjoying myself. Shouldn't everybody be treated alike in this world? I confess I don't understand it."

Bonnie smiled feebly. "Oh, it's all right!" she said, with conviction.

"'In the world ye shall have tribulation, but fear not, I have overcome the world,' you know. It's our testing-time, and this world isn't the only part of life."

"Well, but I don't see how that answers my point," said Courtland, pleasantly. "What's the idea? Don't you think I am worth the testing?"

"Oh, surely, but you may not need the same kind I did."

"You don't appear to me to have needed any testing. So far as I can judge, you've showed the finest kind of nerve on every occasion."

"Oh, but I do," said Bonnie, earnestly. "I've needed it dreadfully! You don't know how hard I was getting--sort of soured on the world! That was the reason I came away from the old home where my father's church was and where all the people I knew were. I couldn't bear to see them. They had been so hard on my dear father that I thought they were the cause of his death. I had begun to feel that there weren't any real Christians left in the world. G.o.d had to bring me away off here into trouble again to find out how good people are. He sent you to help me, and Nurse Wright; and now to-day the most wonderful thing has happened! I've had a letter from an utter stranger, asking me to come and visit. I want you to read it, please."

While Courtland read Mother Marshall's letter Bonnie lay studying him.

And truly he was a goodly sight. No girl in her senses could look a man like that over and not know he was a _man_ and a fine one. But Bonnie had no romantic thoughts. Life had dealt too hardly with her for her to have any illusions left. She had no idea of her own charms, nor any thought of making much of the situation. That was why Gila's insinuations had cut so terribly deep.

"She's a peach, isn't she?" he said, handing the letter back. "How soon does the doctor think you'll be able to travel?"

"Oh, I couldn't possibly _go_," said the girl, relapsing into sadness; "but I think it was lovely of her."

"Go? Of course you must go!" cried Courtland, springing to his feet, as if he had been accustomed to manage this girl's affairs for years. "Why, Mother Marshall would be just broken-hearted if you didn't!"

"Mother Marshall!" exclaimed Bonnie, sitting up from her pillows in astonishment. "You know her, then?"

Courtland stopped suddenly in his excited march across the room and laughed ruefully. "Well, I've let the cat out of the bag after all, haven't I? Yes, then, I know her! It was I who told her about you. And I had a letter from her two days ago, saying she was crazy to have you come. Why, she's just counting the minutes till she gets your telegram!

You _haven't_ sent her word you aren't coming, have you?"

"Not yet," said Bonnie. "I was going to ask you what would be the best way to do. You see, I have to send back that money and the mileage.

Don't you think it would do to write? It costs a great deal to telegraph, and sounds so abrupt when one has had such a royal invitation. It was lovely of her, but of course you know I couldn't be under obligation like that to entire strangers."

There was a little stiffness in Bonnie's last words, and a cool withdrawal in her eyes that brought Courtland to his senses and made him remember Gila's insinuations.

"Look here!" he said, calming down and taking his chair again. "You don't understand, and I guess I ought to explain. In the first place get it out of your head that I'm acting fresh or anything like that. I'm only a kind of big brother that happened along two or three times when you needed somebody--a--a kind of a Christ-brother, if you want to call it that way," he added, s.n.a.t.c.hing at the minister's phrase. "You believe He sends help when it's needed, don't you?"

Bonnie nodded.

"Well, I hadn't an idea in the world of interfering with your affairs at all, but when I heard you ought to rest, I began to wish I had a mother of my own, or an aunt or something who would know what to advise. Then all of a sudden I thought I'd just put the case up to Mother Marshall.

This is the result. Now wait till I tell you what Mother Marshall has been through, and then if you don't decide that G.o.d sent that invitation I've nothing else to say."

Courtland had a reputation at college for eloquence. In rushing season his frat. always counted on him to bowl over the doubtful and difficult fellows, and he never failed. Neither did he fail now, although he found Bonnie difficult enough. But he had her eyes full of tears of sympathy before he was through with the story of Stephen.

"Oh, I would love to see her and put my arms around her and try to comfort her!" she exclaimed. "I know just how she must feel. But I really couldn't use the money of a stranger, and I couldn't go away with all this debt, the funeral, and everything!"

Then he set carefully to work to plan for her. He read Mother Marshall's letter over again, and asked what things she would need to take if she should go. He wrote out a list of the things she would like to sell, and promised to look after them.

"Suppose you just leave that to me," he said, comfortingly. "I'll wager I can get enough out of your furniture to pay all the bills, so you won't leave any behind. Then if I were you I'd just use that check they've sent for your expenses, and trust to getting a position, in that neighborhood when you are strong enough. There are always openings in the West, you know."

"Do you really think I could do that?" asked Bonnie, excitedly. "I'm a good stenographer, I've had a really fine musical education, and I could teach a number of other things."

"Oh, sure! You'd get more positions than you could fill at once!" he declared, joyously. Somehow it gave him great pleasure to be succeeding so well.

"Then I could soon pay them back," said Bonnie, reflectively.

"Sure! You could pay back in no time after you got strong. That would be a cinch! It might even be that you could help Mother Marshall about something in the house pretty soon. And I'm sure you'll find she just needs you. Now suppose we write up that telegram. There's no need to keep the dear lady waiting any longer."