The Witness by Grace Livingston Hill Lutz (mobi reader android TXT) 📕

Something Real. It's No Sick Fancies."

"All Right!" Said Tennelly. "I'll Let You Know When I'm Ready To Hear."

Late That Afternoon,  When Courtland Entered The Hospital,  The Sunshine

Was Flooding The Great Stained-Glass Window And Glorifying The Face Of

The Christ With The Outstretched Hands. Off In A Near-By Ward Some One

Was Singing To The Patients,  And The Corridors Seemed Hushed To Listen:

     The Healing Of The Seamless Dress

       Is By Our Beds Of Pain.

     We Touch Him In Life's Throng And Press

       And We Are Whole Again!

All This Recognition Of The Christ In The World,  And Somehow It Had

Never Come To His Consciousness Before! He Felt Abashed At His

Blindness. And If He Had Been So Long,  Surely There Was Hope For

Tennelly To See,  Too. Somehow,  He Wanted Tennelly To See!

Bonnie Brentwood Was Awake And Expecting Him,  The Nurse Said. She Lay

Propped Up By Pillows,  Draped About With A Dainty,  Frilly

Dressing-Sacque That Looked Too Frivolous For Nurse Wright,  Yet Could

Surely Have Come From No Other Source. The Golden Hair Was Lying In Two

Long Braids,  One Over Each Shoulder,  And There Was A Faint Flush Of

Expectancy On Her Pale Cheeks.

"You Have Been So Good To Me!" She Said. "It Has Been Wonderful For A

Stranger To Go Out Of His Way So Much."

"Please Don't Let's Talk About That!" Said Courtland. "It's Been Only A

Pleasure To Be Of Service. Now I Want To Know How You Are. I've Been

Expecting To Hear That You Had Pneumonia Or Something Dreadful After

That Awful Exposure."

"Oh,  I've Been Through A Good Deal More Than That," Said The Girl,

Trying To Speak Lightly. "Things Don't Seem To Kill Me. I've Had Quite A

Lot Of Hard Times."

"I'm Afraid You Have," He Said,  Gravely. "Somehow It Doesn't Seem Fair

That You Should Have Had Such A Rotten Time Of It,  And I Be Lying Around

Enjoying Myself. Shouldn't Everybody Be Treated Alike In This World? I

Confess I Don't Understand It."

Bonnie Smiled Feebly. "Oh,  It's All Right!" She Said,  With Conviction.

"'In The World Ye Shall Have Tribulation,  But Fear Not,  I Have Overcome

The World,' You Know. It's Our Testing-Time,  And This World Isn't The

Only Part Of Life."

"Well,  But I Don't See How That Answers My Point," Said Courtland,

Pleasantly. "What's The Idea? Don't You Think I Am Worth The Testing?"

"Oh,  Surely,  But You May Not Need The Same Kind I Did."

"You Don't Appear To Me To Have Needed Any Testing. So Far As I Can

Judge,  You've Showed The Finest Kind Of Nerve On Every Occasion."

"Oh,  But I Do," Said Bonnie,  Earnestly. "I've Needed It Dreadfully! You

Don't Know How Hard I Was Getting--Sort Of Soured On The World! That Was

The Reason I Came Away From The Old Home Where My Father's Church Was

And Where All The People I Knew Were. I Couldn't Bear To See Them. They

Had Been So Hard On My Dear Father That I Thought They Were The Cause Of

His Death. I Had Begun To Feel That There Weren't Any Real Christians

Left In The World. God Had To Bring Me Away Off Here Into Trouble Again

To Find Out How Good People Are. He Sent You To Help Me,  And Nurse

Wright; And Now To-Day The Most Wonderful Thing Has Happened! I've Had A

Letter From An Utter Stranger,  Asking Me To Come And Visit. I Want You

To Read It,  Please."

While Courtland Read Mother Marshall's Letter Bonnie Lay Studying Him.

And Truly He Was A Goodly Sight. No Girl In Her Senses Could Look A Man

Like That Over And Not Know He Was A _Man_ And A Fine One. But Bonnie

Had No Romantic Thoughts. Life Had Dealt Too Hardly With Her For Her To

Have Any Illusions Left. She Had No Idea Of Her Own Charms,  Nor Any

Thought Of Making Much Of The Situation. That Was Why Gila's

Insinuations Had Cut So Terribly Deep.

"She's A Peach,  Isn't She?" He Said,  Handing The Letter Back. "How Soon

Does The Doctor Think You'll Be Able To Travel?"

"Oh,  I Couldn't Possibly _Go_," Said The Girl,  Relapsing Into Sadness;

"But I Think It Was Lovely Of Her."

"Go? Of Course You Must Go!" Cried Courtland,  Springing To His Feet,  As

If He Had Been Accustomed To Manage This Girl's Affairs For Years. "Why,

Mother Marshall Would Be Just Broken-Hearted If You Didn't!"

"Mother Marshall!" Exclaimed Bonnie,  Sitting Up From Her Pillows In

Astonishment. "You Know Her,  Then?"

Courtland Stopped Suddenly In His Excited March Across The Room And

Laughed Ruefully. "Well,  I've Let The Cat Out Of The Bag After All,

Haven't I? Yes,  Then,  I Know Her! It Was I Who Told Her About You. And I

Had A Letter From Her Two Days Ago,  Saying She Was Crazy To Have You

Come. Why,  She's Just Counting The Minutes Till She Gets Your Telegram!

You _Haven't_ Sent Her Word You Aren't Coming,  Have You?"

"Not Yet," Said Bonnie. "I Was Going To Ask You What Would Be The Best

Way To Do. You See,  I Have To Send Back That Money And The Mileage.

Don't You Think It Would Do To Write? It Costs A Great Deal To

Telegraph,  And Sounds So Abrupt When One Has Had Such A Royal

Invitation. It Was Lovely Of Her,  But Of Course You Know I Couldn't Be

Under Obligation Like That To Entire Strangers."

There Was A Little Stiffness In Bonnie's Last Words,  And A Cool

Withdrawal In Her Eyes That Brought Courtland To His Senses And Made Him

Remember Gila's Insinuations.

"Look Here!" He Said,  Calming Down And Taking His Chair Again. "You

Don't Understand,  And I Guess I Ought To Explain. In The First Place Get

It Out Of Your Head That I'm Acting Fresh Or Anything Like That. I'm

Only A Kind Of Big Brother That Happened Along Two Or Three Times When

You Needed Somebody--A--A Kind Of A Christ-Brother,  If You Want To Call

It That Way," He Added,  Snatching At The Minister's Phrase. "You Believe

He Sends Help When It's Needed,  Don't You?"

Bonnie Nodded.

"Well,  I Hadn't An Idea In The World Of Interfering With Your Affairs At

All,  But When I Heard You Ought To Rest,  I Began To Wish I Had A Mother

Of My Own,  Or An Aunt Or Something Who Would Know What To Advise. Then

All Of A Sudden I Thought I'd Just Put The Case Up To Mother Marshall.

This Is The Result. Now Wait Till I Tell You What Mother Marshall Has

Been Through,  And Then If You Don't Decide That God Sent That Invitation

I've Nothing Else To Say."

Courtland Had A Reputation At College For Eloquence. In Rushing Season

His Frat. Always Counted On Him To Bowl Over The Doubtful And Difficult

Fellows,  And He Never Failed. Neither Did He Fail Now,  Although He Found

Bonnie Difficult Enough. But He Had Her Eyes Full Of Tears Of Sympathy

Before He Was Through With The Story Of Stephen.

"Oh,  I Would Love To See Her And Put My Arms Around Her And Try To

Comfort Her!" She Exclaimed. "I Know Just How She Must Feel. But I

Really Couldn't Use The Money Of A Stranger,  And I Couldn't Go Away With

All This Debt,  The Funeral,  And Everything!"

Then He Set Carefully To Work To Plan For Her. He Read Mother Marshall's

Letter Over Again,  And Asked What Things She Would Need To Take If She

Should Go. He Wrote Out A List Of The Things She Would Like To Sell,  And

Promised To Look After Them.

"Suppose You Just Leave That To Me," He Said,  Comfortingly. "I'll Wager

I Can Get Enough Out Of Your Furniture To Pay All The Bills,  So You

Won't Leave Any Behind. Then If I Were You I'd Just Use That Check

They've Sent For Your Expenses,  And Trust To Getting A Position,  In

That Neighborhood When You Are Strong Enough. There Are Always Openings

In The West,  You Know."

"Do You Really Think I Could Do That?" Asked Bonnie,  Excitedly. "I'm A

Good Stenographer,  I've Had A Really Fine Musical Education,  And I Could

Teach A Number Of Other Things."

"Oh,  Sure! You'd Get More Positions Than You Could Fill At Once!" He

Declared,  Joyously. Somehow It Gave Him Great Pleasure To Be Succeeding

So Well.

"Then I Could Soon Pay Them Back," Said Bonnie,  Reflectively.

"Sure! You Could Pay Back In No Time After You Got Strong. That Would Be

A Cinch! It Might Even Be That You Could Help Mother Marshall About

Something In The House Pretty Soon. And I'm Sure You'll Find She Just

Needs You. Now Suppose We Write Up That Telegram. There's No Need To

Keep The Dear