he would have a box of something rarer or more costly waiting for
her, if the city afforded such.

She set him down at his club, quite well satisfied with her few minutes.
She was glad it didn't last longer, for it would have grown tiresome;
she had had just enough, carried him just far enough on the wave of
emotion, to stimulate her own soul.

Sweeping away from the curb again, bowing graciously to two or three
other acquaintances who were going in or out of the club building, she
gave an order for the hospital and set her face sternly to the duty
before her.

A little breeze of expectation preceded her entrance into the hospital,
a stir among the attendants about the door. Passing nurses apprized her
furs and orchids; young interns took account of her eyes--the mouse-eyes
had returned, but they lured with something unspeakable and thrilling in
them.

She waited with a nice little superb air that made everybody hurry to
serve her, and presently she was shown up to the door of Bonnie
Brentwood's room. Her chauffeur had followed, bearing a large pasteboard
suit-box which he set down at the door and departed.

"Is this Miss Brentwood's room?" she asked of the nurse who opened the
door grudgingly. Her patient had just awakened from a refreshing sleep
and she had no notion that this lofty little person had really come to
see the quiet, sad-eyed girl who had come there in such shabby little
garments. The visitor had made a mistake, of course. The nurse
grudgingly admitted that Miss Brentwood roomed there.

"Well, I've brought some things for her," said Gila, indicating the
large box at her feet. "You can take it inside and open it."

The nurse opened the door a little wider, looked at the small, imperious
personage in fur trappings, and then down at the box. She hesitated a
moment in a kind of inward fury, then swung the door a little wider open
and stepped back:

"You can set it inside if you wish, or wait till one of the men comes
by," she said, coolly, and deliberately walked back in the room and
busied herself with the medicine-glasses.

Gila stared at her haughtily a moment, but there wasn't much
satisfaction in wasting her glares on that white-linen back, so she
stooped and dragged in the box. She came and stood by the bed, staring
down apprizingly at the sick girl.

Bonnie Brentwood turned her head wearily and looked up at her with a
puzzled, half-annoyed expression. She had paid no heed to the little
al