ense and still and listened. She even was unmoved when
Courtland went on to tell of finding himself on a ledge above the
burning mass, creeping somehow into a small haven, shut in by a wall of
smoke, and feeling that this was the end. But when he began to tell of
the Presence, the Light, the Voice, the girl gave a sudden start and
gripped her cold hands together. Almost imperceptibly she drew her tense
little body away from him, and turned slowly till she faced him, horror
and consternation in her eyes, utter unbelief and scorn on her lips. But
still she did not speak, still held her gaze on him and listened, while
he told of coming back to life, the hospital walls, the strange
emptiness, and the Presence; the recovery, and the Presence still with
him; the going here and there and finding the Presence always before him
and yet with him!

"He is here in this room with us, Gila!" he said, simply, as if he had
been telling her that he had brought her some flowers and he hoped she
would like them.

Then suddenly Gila gave a spring away from him to her feet, uttered a
wild scream of terror, and burst into angry tears!

Courtland sprang to his feet in dismay and instant contrition. He had
made the horror of the fire too dramatic. He had not realized how
dreadful it would be to a woman's delicate sensibilities. This gentle,
loving girl had felt it all to her soul and her nerves had given way
before the reality of it. He had been an idiot to tell the story in that
bald way. He should have gone about it more gently. He was not used to
women. He must learn better. Would she forgive him?

And now indeed he had her in his arms, although he was utterly unaware
of it. He was trying to comfort and soothe her, as he would soothe a
little child who had been frightened. Not only his handkerchief but his
hands were called into requisition to charm away those tears and comfort
the pitiful little face that looked so streaked and pink and helpless
there against his shoulder. He wanted to stoop and lay his lips on those
trembling ones. Perhaps Gila thought he would. But he would not take
advantage of her moment of helplessness. Not until she was herself and
could give him permission would he avail himself of that sacred
privilege. Now it was the part of a man to comfort her without any
element of self in the matter.

When he had drawn her down upon the couch again, with the sobs still
shaking her soft blue-and-white frilly breast, her bl