The Works Of Winston Churchill / A Linked Index Of The Project Gutenberg Editions

, he settled to his belated work regardless of Bill Ward's anxious glances from the back of the room and Pat's lifted eyebrows from the other side. He

l science over which he was trying faithfully to work

When he closed his eyes for a moment to think how to phrase some answer in his paper he would see that still, beautiful face as it lay on his shoulder in the carriage. It h

was that, having paid to put the girl where she would be perfectly comfortable and be well taken care of, he could not cast her off and forget her. His responsibility seemed to be doubled with everything he did for her. Between the problems of deep state perplexities and intrigues was ever the perplexity about that girl and how she was going to live all alone with her tragedy-or traged

ut their marks and held an indignation meeting over the way Pat was getting black-listed by all the professors just when he was tr

re symptoms of lack of nutrition. What she needed was rest, utter rest. Sleep if possible most of the time for at least a week, with, careful feeding every two or three hour

no friends, no money, and no time to lie idle? Moreover, how could there be any cheerful

d she had had only one more slight turn of unconsciousness, but had rallied from

on the next day, one in which he especially wanted to do well; yet try as he would to concentrate on

re soothing to his soul. If he had known a little more about the Christ to whose allegiance he had declared himself he might have knelt and asked for guidance; but as yet he had not so much as heard of a promise to the man who

. A mother! Ah! if there were a mother somewhere to whom that girl could go! Some one who would understand her; be

wn? Well, they might be all well enough for their own sons and daughters, but there wasn't one who seemed likely to want to behave in a very motherly way to a st

had a strange protective feeling about that girl, not as if she were like the other girls he knew; perhaps it was a sort of a "Christ-brother" feeling, as the minister had suggested. But to go on with the list of mothers-wasn't there one anywhere to whom he could appeal? Gila's mother? Pah! That painted, purple image o

as that kind of a mother of course, or Stephen Marshall would not have been the man he was! If the Bonnie girl could only get to her for a little while! But would she take

is room, and wrote her a long letter, red-hot from the depths of his heart; a letter such as he might have written t

r of Steph

he was. And now I am going to let you prove it by co

m, boarding themselves, she working all day somewhere down-town. Two days ago, as she was coming home in the trolley, her little brother, crossing the street to meet her, was knocked down and killed by a passing automobile. We buried him to-day, and the girl fainted dead away on the way back from the cemeter

she will feel free to turn to. She isn't the kind of girl who will accept charity. She's refined, reserved, independent, an

und and help; that's how I came to know. Of course she hasn't any idea of all this, and I haven't any real

cept a stepmother, who wouldn't understand, and all the other mothers I know wouldn't q

for a new automobile; but my old car is plenty good enough for another year, and I'd like to pay that girl's board awhile till she gets rested and strong and sort of cheered up. I though

pt that I told you about her. She'd be up in the air in a minute.

board any way you say. Don't hesitate to tell me just how much it is worth. I don't need the money for anything. But whatever's done has got to be done mighty quick or she'll go back to work again, and she won't last three days if s

ropose this, and maybe you won't see it this way, but I've had the nerve because Stephen Marshall's life an

ry respe

Court

ht and then studied hard till

ay evening. He frowned when he read it. He didn't care for the large, painted person, but perhaps there was more good in her than he