Nurse Wright was on hand promptly at the place appointed. She was armed with a list of written instructions. They went to work at once, setting aside the things to be sold; folding and packing the scanty wardrobe, and putting by themselves the clothes and things that had belonged to little Aleck. One incident brought tears to their eyes. In moving out the trunk a large pasteboard box fell down, and the contents dropped upon the floor. The nurse stooped to pick up the things, some pieces of an old overcoat of fine, dark-blue material, cut into small garments, basted, ready to be sewed; a tissue-paper pattern in a printed envelope marked "Boy's suit." Courtland lifted up the cover to put it on again, and there they saw, in a child's stiff little printing letters, the inscription, "Aleck's new Sunday suit," and underneath, like a subt.i.tle, in smaller letters, "Made out of father's best overcoat."

"Poor little kid!" said Courtland. "He never got to wear it!"

"He's wearing something far better!" said the nurse, cheerfully; "and think what he's been spared. He'll never know the lack of a new suit again!"

Courtland looked at her thoughtfully. "You believe in the resurrection, don't you?"

"I certainly do!" said the nurse. "If I didn't I'd get another job. I couldn't see lives go out the way I do, and those left behind, suffering, and not go crazy if I didn't believe in the resurrection. You are a college student. I suppose you've got beyond believing things. It isn't the fashion to believe in G.o.d and the Bible any more, I understand, not if you're supposed to have any brains. But I thank G.o.d He's left me the resurrection. And when you come to face the loss of those you love you'll wish you believed in it, too."

"But I do," said Courtland, quietly, making his second confession of faith. "I never thought much about it till lately. It goes along with a Christ, of course. There had to be a resurrection if there was a Christ!"

"Well, I certainly am glad there's one college student that has some sense!" said the nurse, looking at him with admiration. "I guess you had a good mother."

"No," said Courtland, shaking his head. "I never knew my own mother.

That'll be one of the things for me to look forward to in the resurrection. I was like all the rest of the fellows--thought I knew it all, and didn't believe anything till something happened! I was in a fire and one of the fellows died! He was a great Christian, and I saw his face when he died! And then, afterward--maybe you'll think I'm nuts when I tell you--but Christ came and stood by me in the smoke and talked with me and I knew Him! He's been with me more or less ever since."

The nurse looked at him curiously, a strange light in her eyes. Then she turned suddenly and looked out of the little window to the vista of gray roofs.

"No! I don't think you're nuts!" she said, brusquely. "I think you're the only sensible man I've met in a long time. It stands to reason if there is a Christ He'd come to people that way sometimes. I never had any vision, or anything that I know of, but I've always known in my heart there was a Christ and He was helping me! I couldn't answer their arguments, those smart-Aleck young doctors and the nurses that talked so much, but I always felt n.o.body could upset my belief, even if the whole world turned against Him, for I _knew_ there was a Christ! I don't know _how_ I know it, but I _know_ it and that's enough for me! I don't boast of being much of a Christian myself, but if I didn't know there was a Christ I couldn't stand the life I have to live, nor the disappointments that I've had."

There were tears rolling down her cheeks, but her eyes were shining when she turned around.

"Say, I guess we're sort of relations, aren't we?" laughed Courtland, holding out his hand. "You've described my feelings exactly."

She took the offered hand and gripped it warmly. "I knew you must be different, somehow, when you went out to hunt for my patient so late at night that way," she said.

Courtland went out presently, bringing back a second-hand man with whom he made a quiet bargain that not even the nurse could hear, and the surplus furniture was carted away. It was not long before the little room was dismantled and empty.

They went together to a department store and purchased a charming little bag with a lot of traveling accessories in plain compact form, light enough for an invalid to carry. Courtland begged to be let in on the gift, but the nurse was firm:

"This is my picnic, young man," she said. "You're doing enough! You can't deny it! For pity's sake, wait till you know her better before you try to do any more!"

"Do you think I'll ever know her any better?" laughed Courtland.

"If you have any sense you will!" snapped back the nurse, and waved a grim but pleasant good-by as she took the trolley back to the hospital.

Wednesday night Courtland was on hand with his car in plenty of time to take Bonnie and the nurse down to the station. He was almost startled at the beauty of the girl as she came slowly down the steps. There were certain little details of her costume that showed the hand of the nurse: a soft white collar; a floating, sheltering veil, gathered up now about the black sailor-hat; well-fitting gloves; shoes polished like new. All these things made a difference and set off the girl's lovely face in its white resignation to an almost unearthly beauty. He found himself wanting to turn back often and look again as he drove his car through the crowded evening streets. She looked so frail and sweet he could not help thinking of Mother Marshall and how she would feel when she saw her. Surely she could not help but take her to her heart! He felt a certain pride in her, as if she were his sister. He was half sorry she was going away. He would like to know her better. The words of the nurse, "until you know her better" floated through his mind. What a strange thing that had been for her to say! It wasn't in the least likely that he would ever see Bonnie again.

They left her in the sleeper, with special instructions to the porter to look after her, and surrounding her with magazines and fruit.

"She looks as if a breath might blow her away!" said Courtland, speaking out of a troubled thought, as he and the nurse stood on the platform watching the train move off. "Do you think she'll get through the journey all right?"

"Sure!" said the nurse, wiping away a wistful tear furtively. "She's got lots of pep. She'll rally and get strong pretty soon. She's had a pretty tough time the last two years. Lost her mother, father, a sister, and this little brother. Her father's heart was broken by being asked to leave his church because he preached temperance too much. The martyrs in this world didn't all die in the dark ages! They're having them yet!"

"But she looks so ethereal!" pursued Courtland. "I wish I'd thought to suggest you going along. We could have trumped up some reason why you had to have a vacation."

"Couldn't do it!" said the nurse, smiling and patting his arm. "I thought of it, but it wouldn't work. I have to be at the hospital to-morrow for a very important operation. There isn't anybody else in the hospital could very well take my place. Besides, she's sharp as a tack, and you needn't think she doesn't see through a lot of the things you've done for her! Mark my words, you'll hear from her some day! She means to know the truth about those bills and pay every cent back! But don't you worry about her. She'll get through all right. She's got more nerve than any dozen girls I know, and she doesn't go alone through this world, either. She's had a vision, too, or you'd never see her wearing that patient face with all she's had to bear!"

"Did it ever seem strange to you that good people have so much trouble in this world?" said Courtland, voicing his same old doubting thought.

"Well, now _why_? What's _trouble_ going to be in the resurrection? We won't mind then what we pa.s.sed through, and this world isn't forever, thank the Lord! If it's serving His plan any for me to get more than what seems my share of trouble, why, I'm willing. Aren't you? The trouble is we can't see the plan, and so we go fretting because it doesn't fit our ideas. If it was our plan now we'd patiently bear everything, I suppose, to make it come out right. We aren't up high enough to get the whole view of the finished plan, so of course lots of things look like mistakes. But if we trust Him at all, we know they aren't. And some time, I suppose, we'll see the whole and then we'll understand why it was. But I never was one to do much fretting because I didn't understand. I always know what my job is, and that's enough. I'm content to trust the rest to G.o.d. It's a G.o.d-size job to run the universe, and I know I'm not equal to it."

Her simple logic calmed his restless thoughts, but there was still a strange wistfulness in his heart about Bonnie. She looked so white and resigned and sad! He wished she hadn't gone quite so far out of his life.

Meantime, out in the darkness of the night Bonnie's train whirled along, and some time during the long hours between midnight and dawning it pa.s.sed in a rush and a thunder of sound the express that was bearing back to Courtland another menace to his peace of mind.

CHAPTER XXII

Uncle Ramsey was large and imposing, with an effulgent complexion and a prosperous presence. He wore a double-jeweled ring on his apoplectic finger, and a scarab scarf-pin. His eyes were keen and shifty; his teeth had acquired the habit of clutching his fat black cigar viciously while he snarled his rather loose lips about them in conversation. Uncle Ramsay never looked one in the face when he was talking. He looked off into s.p.a.ce, where he appeared to have the topic under discussion in visible form before him. He never took up with the conversation his host offered. He furnished the topics himself and pinned one down to them. It really was of no use whatever to start any subject unless it had been previously announced, because it never got further than the initiative.

Uncle Ramsey always went on with whatever he had in mind. Tennelly knew this tendency, realized that in writing the letter he had taken the only possible way of bringing Courtland to his uncle's notice.

After an exceedingly good dinner at the frat. house, where Tennelly did not usually dine, and being further reinforced by one of the aforesaid fat black cigars, Uncle Ramsey leaned back in Tennelly's leather chair, and began:

"Now, Thomas!"

Tennelly stirred uneasily. He despised that "Thomas." His full name was Llewellyn Thomas Tennelly. At home they called him "Lew." n.o.body but Uncle Ramsey ever dared the hateful Thomas. He liked to air the fact that his nephew was named after himself, the great Ramsey Thomas.

"Suppose you tell me about this man you have for me? What kind of a looking man is he?"

Uncle Ramsey screwed up his eyes, looked to the middle distance where the subject ought to be, and examined him critically.

"Has--ah--he--ah--_personality_? Personality is a great factor in success you know."

Tennelly, in the brief s.p.a.ce allowed him, declared that his friend would pa.s.s this test.

"Well--ah! And can he--ah!--can he _lead men_? Because that is a very important point. The man I want must be a leader."

"I think he is."

"Um--ah! And does he--?" on down through a long list of questions.

At last, after once more relighting his cigar, which had gone out frequently during the conversation, he turned to his nephew and fixed him sharply with a fat pale-blue eye.

"Tell me the worst you know about him, Thomas! What are his faults?" he snapped, and settled back to squint at his imaginary stage again.

"Why--I--Why, I don't think he has any," declared Tennelly, shifting uneasily in his chair. He had a feeling that Uncle Ramsey would get it out of him yet. And he did.

"Yes, I perceive that he has! Out with it!" snapped the keen old bird, flinging his loose lips about restively.

"It's only that he's got a religious twist lately, uncle. I don't think it'll last. I really think he is getting over it!"

"Religion! Um! Ah! Well, now that might not be so bad--not for my purpose, you know. Religion really gives a confidence sometimes.

Religion! Um! Ah! Not a bad trait. Let me see him, Thomas! Let me see him _at once_!"