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.
I took with me several very pretty frocks of my own, quite
good, some of them scarcely worn at all, for I know girls of
that sort care more for clothes than anything else. But I
found her quite sullen and disagreeable. She wouldn't look
at the things I had brought, although I suggested several
ways in which I intended to help her and make it possible
for her to have a few friends of her own class who would
make her forget her troubles. She just lay and stared at me
and said, quite impertinently, that she didn't remember ever
having met me.
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