is way
and Courtland would turn to talk to the child. People would stop their
conversation and look his way; and a whole grand stand would come to
silence just to see him walk across the diamond with a little
golden-haired kid upon his shoulder. There was something inexpressibly
beautiful about his attitude toward a child.

Gila saw it now and wondered. What unexpected trait was this that sat
upon the young man like a crown? Here, indeed, was a man who was worth
cultivating, not merely for the caprice of the moment. There was
something in his face and attitude now that commanded her respect and
admiration; something that drew her as she had not been drawn before.
She would win him now for his own sake, not just to show how she could
charm away his morbid fancies.

She continued to stare at the young man with eyes that saw new things in
him, while Courtland sat petting the child and telling him a story. He
paid no further attention to her.

When Gila set her heart upon a thing she had always had it. This had
been her father's method of bringing her up. Her mother was too busy
with her clubs and her social functions to see the harm. And now Gila
suddenly became aware that she was setting her heart upon this young
man. The eternal feminine in her that was almost choked with selfishness
was crying out for a man like this one to comfort and pet her the way he
was comforting and petting her little brother. That he had not yielded
too easily to her charms made him all the more desirable. The
interruption had come so suddenly that she couldn't even be sure he had
been about to take her hands in his when he flung them from him. He had
sprung from the couch almost as if he had been under orders. She could
not understand it, only she knew she was drawn by it all.

But he should yield! She had power and she would use it. She had beauty
and it should wound him. She would win that gentle deference and
attention for her own. In her jealous, spoiled, little heart she hated
the little brother for lying there in his arms so, interrupting their
evening just when she had him where she had wanted him. Whether she
wanted him for more than a plaything she did not know, but her plaything
he should be as long as she desired him--and more also if she chose.

When Courtland lifted his head at the sound of the doctor's footsteps on
the stairs he saw the challenge in Gila's eyes. Drawn up against the
white enamel of the bathroom door, all her