tensity, her whole face and
attitude a challenge to the sermon. Courtland, absorbed as he was in
what the speaker had to say, thrilling with the message that came to his
soul welcomely, became aware of the tense little figure by his side,
and, looking down, was pleased that she had forgotten her nonsense and
was listening, and somehow missed the defiance in her attitude.

Gila did not smile when service was over. She went out haughtily,
impatiently, looking about on the throng contemptuously. When Courtland
asked her if she would like to stop a minute and meet the preacher she
threw up her chin with a toss and a "No, indeed!" that left no doubt for
lingering.

Out in the street, away from the crowd somewhat, she suddenly stopped
and stamped her little foot: "I think that man is perfectly
_disgusting_!" she cried. "He ought to be _arrested_! I don't know why
such a man is allowed at large!"

She was fairly panting in her anger. It was as if he had put her to
shame before an assembly.

Courtland turned wonderingly toward her.

"He is outrageous!" she went on. "He has no _right_! I _hate_ him!"

Courtland watched her in amazement. "You can't mean the minister!"

"Minister! He's no minister!" declared Gila. "He's a fanatic! One of the
worst kind. He's a fake! He's uncanny! The idea of daring to talk about
God that way as if He was always around every where! I think it's
_awful_! I should think he'd have everybody in hysterics!"

Gila's voice sounded as if she were almost there herself. She flung
along by his side with a vindictive little click of her high-heeled
boots and a prance of her whole elaborate little person that showed she
was fairly bristling with wrath.

But Courtland's voice was sad with disappointment. "Then you didn't feel
it, after all! I was hoping you did."

"Feel what?" she asked, sharply. "I felt something, yes. What did you
mean?" Her voice had softened wonderfully, and she drew near to him and
slipped her hand again within his arm. There was an eagerness in her
voice that Courtland wholly misinterpreted.

"Feel the Presence!" He said it gently, reverently, as if it were a
magic word, a password to a mutual understanding.

"Presence?" she said, bewildered. "Yes, I felt a presence, but what
presence did you mean?" Her voice was soft with meaning.

"The Presence of God."

She turned upon him and jerked her arm away. "The Presence of God in
that place?" she demanded. "No! _Never!_ How perf