He felt it was important that that young man should be landed
before he had a chance to do too much thinking. Moreover, he was piqued
that a youngster like that should presume to consider turning down a job
like the one he was offering him.
If Courtland had tried to explain to Tennelly and his uncle just why
this offer, which would have delighted him so much three months before,
was hanging in the balance of his mind, they would scarcely have
understood. He would have to tell them of the Presence which was by his
side, which had been very real to him as he stood in Tennelly's room
listening to Uncle Ramsey that afternoon, and which had hovered by him
since, so close, so strong, with that pervading, commanding nearness
that demanded his utmost attention. He would have had to tell them that
he was under orders now, being led, and that every step was new and
untried; he must look into the face of his Companion and Guide, and find
out if this was the way he was to go!
Something, somewhere was holding him back. He did not know why, he did
not see for how long. He simply could not make that decision to-night!
He must await permission before moving.
Possibly the trip to the factory the next day, which he had promised to
take, might give him some light in the matter. Possibly he would find
counsel somewhere. But where? He thought of Gila. He took out a lovely
photograph of her that she had given him before he left her Sunday
night--a charming, airy, idealistic thing of earth and fire that had
lain innocently open upon the library table where some one (?) had left
it earlier in the day.
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