You can have my flowers, too, if you want them," said Gila, excitedly,
seeing that her flood of insult had brought forth no answering word from
either listener. "They're very handsome, rare ones--orchids, you know.
Did you ever see any before? I don't mind leaving them with you because
I have a great many flowers, and these were given me by a young man I
don't care in the least about."

She unpinned the flowers and held them out to Bonnie, but the sick girl
lay still and regarded her with that quiet, half-amused gravity and did
not offer to take them.

"I presume you can find a waste-basket down in the office if you want to
get rid of them," said Bonnie, suddenly, in a clear, refined voice. "I
really shouldn't care for them. Isn't there a waste-basket somewhere
about?" she asked, turning toward the nurse.

"Down in the hall by the front entrance," answered the nurse, grimly.
She was ready to play up to whatever cue Bonnie gave her.

Gila stood haughtily holding her flowers and looking from one woman to
the other, unable to believe that any other woman had the insufferable
audacity to meet her on her own ground in this way. Were they actually
guying her, or were they innocents who really thought she did not want
the flowers, or who did not know enough to think orchids beautiful?
Before she could decide Bonnie was speaking again, still in that quiet,
superior tone of a lady that gave her the command of the situation:

"I am sorry," she said, quite politely, as if she must let her visitor
down gently, "but I'm afraid you have made some mistake. I don't recall
ever having met you before. It must be some other Miss Brentwood for
whom you are looking."

Gila stared, and her color suddenly began to rise even under the pearly
tint of her flesh. Had she possibly made some blunder? This certainly
was the voice of a lady. And the girl on the bed had the advantage of
absolute self-control. Somehow that angered Gila more than anything
else.

"Don't you know Paul Courtland?" she demanded, imperiously.

"I never heard the name before!"

Bonnie's voice was steady, and her eyes looked coolly into the other
girl's. The nurse looked at Bonnie and marveled. She knew the name of
Paul Courtland well; she telephoned to that name every day. How was it
that the girl did not know it? She liked this girl and the man who had
brought her here and been so anxious about her. But who on earth was
this huzzy in fur?

Gila looked at Bonnie m