Not that they were saying anything against him--of course not! Tennelly
would never have stood for that, and Gila knew better. But Gila had no
intention of giving Tennelly any idea how far matters had gone between
herself and Courtland. As for Tennelly, he would have been the most
amazed of the three if he could have known all. He had been Courtland's
intimate friend for so many years--years count like ages when one is in
college--that he thought he knew him perfectly. He would have sworn to
it that Courtland's friendship with Gila had not progressed further than
a mere first stage of friendship. He admitted that Gila had an influence
over his friend, but that it had really gone heart-deep seemed
impossible. Courtland was a man of too much force, even young as he was,
and too much maturity of thought, to be permanently entangled with a
girl like Gila. That was what Tennelly thought before Gila had turned
her eyes toward him and flung a few of her silver gossamer threads about
his soul. For always in those first days of his visits to Gila it had
been in Courtland's behalf; first, to see if she was good enough for a
friend of his friend, and next to get her partnership in the scheme of
turning Courtland's thoughts away from "morbid" things.
But that night for the first time Tennelly saw the Solveig in Gila, and
was stirred on his own account. The childish blue frock and the simple
frilled 'kerchief did their work with his high soul as well; and he sat,
charmed, and watched her.
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