"How soon would the doctor let her travel?" asked Courtland. "Why, I'll go ask him. You want to put it in your message, don't you?" "She's a dear!" said Bonnie, with a tender look after her. "_Isn't_ she a peach!" seconded Courtland, enthusiastically. The nurse was back almost at once, reporting that Bonnie might travel by the middle of the week if all went well. "But could I get ready to go so soon?" said the girl, a shade of trouble coming into her eyes. "I must go back and pack up my things, you know, and clean the room." Courtland and the nurse exchanged meaningful glances. "Now look here!" began Courtland, with his engaging smile. "Why couldn't the nurse and I do all that's necessary? How about to-morrow afternoon? Could you get off awhile, Miss Wright? I don't have any basket-ball practice till Tuesday, and I could get off right after dinner. Miss Brentwood, you could tell the nurse just what you want done with your things, and I'll warrant she and I have sense enough to pack up one little room." After some persuasion Bonnie half consented, and then they attended to the telegram. Your wonderful invitation accepted with deep gratitude. Will start as soon as able. Probably Wednesday night. Will write. ROSE BONNER BRENTWOOD. was what they finally evolved. Bonnie had been divided between a desire to save words and a longing to show her appreciation of the kindness. But the strangest thing of all was that, in his eagerness, the paper Courtland fumbled out from his pocket to write it upon was Gila Dare's unopened letter, reeking with violets. He frowned as he realized it, and stuffed it back in his pocket again. Courtland enjoyed sending that telegram. He enjoyed it so much that he sent another along with it on his own account, which read: Three cheers for the best mother in the United States! She's coming and you ought to see her eyes shine! It was on the way back to the university that he happened to remember Gila's letter. CHAPTER XVIII MY DEAR MR. COURTLAND: The very first line translated Courtland into another world from the one in which he had been living during the past three days. Its perfumed breath struck harshly on his soul. I am writing to report on the case of the poor girl whom you asked me to help. I was very anxious to please you and did my best; but you remember that I warned you that persons of that sort were likely to be most difficult and ungrateful--indeed, quite impossible sometimes. And so, perhaps, you will be somewhat prepared for the disappointing report I have to give. I went to the hospital this afternoon, putting off several engagements to do so. I was quite surprised to find the girl in a private room, but of course your kindness made that possible for her, which makes her utter ingratitude all the more unpardonable.