"If it gets out
what's the matter with Court he won't stand half a chance. I was
thinking of my uncle Ramsey, out in Chicago. He has large financial
interests in the West; he often wants promising men to take charge of
some big thing, and it means a dandy opening; big money and no end of
social and political pull to get into one of his berths. He's promised
me one when I'm done college, and I was going to talk to him about
Court. He's twice the man I am and just what Uncle Ramsey wants. He's
coming on East next week, and likely to stop over. I might see what I
can do."
"That's just the thing, Nelly. Go to it, old man! Write unc. a letter
to-night. Nothing like giving a lot of dope beforehand."
"That's an idea! I will!" and Tennelly went to his desk and began to
write.
Meantime Gila awaited Courtland's coming, attired in a most startling
costume of blue velvet and ermine, with high laced white kid boots, and
a hat that resembled a fresh, white setting-hen, tied down to her pert
little face with a veil whose large-meshed surface was broken by a
single design, a large black butterfly anchored just across her dainty
little nose. A most astonishing costume in which to appear in the Rev.
John Burns's unpretentious little church crowded with the canaille of
the city!
It was the first time that Courtland had ever felt that Gila was a
little loud in her dress!
CHAPTER XIX
Mother Marshall got strenuously to her feet from the low hassock on
which she had been sitting to sew the carpet, and trotted to the head of
the stairs.
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