ing down on the moss and
knew that he was there. Creeping softly up, he assured himself that all
was well, then crept away to wait. Pat had brought a basket of grapes
and a great bag of luscious pears against the time when Courtland should
have fought his battle and come forth. What those hours of waiting meant
to Pat might perhaps be found written in the lives of some of the boys
in that school where he coached athletics the next winter. But what they
meant to Courtland will only be found written in the records on high.

Some time a little after noon there came a peace to Courtland's troubled
soul.

When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee,
and through the floods they shall not overflow thee!

It was as near to him as whispers in his ear, and peace was all about
him.

He stood up, looked abroad, saw the beauty of the day, heard the
dreaminess of the afternoon coming on, heard louder God's call to his
heart, and knew that there was strength for all his need. It was then
Pat came with his refreshment like a ministering angel.

When they got back to the city that evening there was a note from
Bonnie, the first Courtland had received since the formal announcement
of her arrival and her gratitude to him for being the means of bringing
her to that dear home.

This letter was almost as brief as the first, but it breathed a spirit
of peace and content. She enclosed a check on the funeral account.
Bonnie was well and happy. She was teaching the grammar-school where
Stephen Marshall used to study when he was a little boy, and giving
music lessons in the afternoons. She would soon be able to pay back
everything she owed and to do a daughter's share in the home where she
was treated like an own child. She closed by saying that the kindness he
had shown her would never be forgotten; that he had seemed to her, and
always would, like the messenger of the Lord sent to help her in her
despair.

There was a ring so fresh and strong and true in this little letter,
that he could but recognize it. He sighed and thought how strange it was
that he should almost resent it, coming as it did in contrast with
Gila's falseness. Gila who had professed to love him so deeply, and then
had so easily laid that love aside and put on another. Perhaps all girls
were the same. Perhaps this Bonnie, too, would do the same if a man
turned out not to have her ideals.

He answered Bonnie's note in a day or two with a cordial