missive over which she had wept those angry
tears. He signed for the letter with a frown. Somehow the perfume
annoyed him. He put the thing in his pocket, having no patience to read
it at once, and went hurriedly down the hall.

As he passed the office Courtland found a letter in his box, noting with
a sort of comfort that it bore a Western postmark. As he waited for his
trolley at the corner, he reflected how strange it was that this young
woman, whom he had never seen nor heard of before, should suddenly be
flung thus upon his horizon and seem, in a measure, his responsibility.
He had been shaking free from that sense of accountability since she had
been reported getting better; and especially since he had put her upon
the hearts of Mother Marshall and Gila. Gila! How the thought of her
annoyed just now!

In the trolley he opened Mother Marshall's letter and read, marveling at
the revelation of motherhood it contained. Motherhood and fatherhood!
How beautiful! A sort of Christ-mother and Christ-father, these two who
had been bereft of their own, were willing to be! And Bonnie! How she
needed them--and had gone before she knew! He must persuade her to go to
Mother Marshall! For, after all, this whole bungle was his fault. If he
had never tried to tole Gila into it this wouldn't have happened.

A factory-girl, belated, shivered into the car in a thin summer jacket
and stood beside a girl in furs and a handsome coat. Courtland thought
of Bonnie in her little shabby black suit--a summer suit, of course. He
remembered noticing how thin it looked as they stood beside the grave on
the bleak hillside, and wondering if she were not cold. But it was mild
that day compared to this, and the sun had been shining then. She must
have half frozen in that long, long ride! And had she money enough to
buy her something to eat? She had left a five-dollar bill at the
hospital. Some instinct taught him that it was the last she had!

He grew more and more nervous and impatient as he neared his
destination.

He sprang up the narrow stairs that had grown so familiar to him the
past week, watching anxiously the crack under the door to see if there
was a light. But it was all dark! He tapped at the door lightly. But of
course she would have gone to bed at once after the exertion of the
journey! He tapped louder, and held his breath to listen. But no answer
came!

Then he tapped again, and called, in half-subdued tones: "Miss
Brentwood!