IV
Still beset by uncertainties as to whether he would increase his chances of happiness by marrying again, Mills was wondering just how a man of his years could initiate a courtship with a girl of Millicent Harden’s age. It must be managed in such a way as to preserve his dignity—that must be preserved at all hazards. They had been walking through the conservatory aisles inspecting his roses, which were cultivated by an expert whose salary was a large item of the farm budget. Millicent was asking questions about the development of new floral types and he was answering painstakingly, pleased by her interest.
“It’s unfortunate that the human species can’t be improved as easily. At least we don’t see our way to improving it,” he remarked.
He had never thought her so beautiful as now; her charm was rather enhanced by her informal dress. It would be quite possible for him to love her, love her even with a young man’s ardor.
“Oh, patience, sir!” she smiled. “Evolution is still going on.”
“Or going back! There’s our old quarrel!” he laughed. “We always seem to get into it. But your idea that we’re not creatures of chance—that there’s some unseen power back of everything we call life—that’s too much for me. I can understand Darwin—but you!”
“Honestly, now, are you perfectly satisfied to go on thinking we’re all creatures of chance?”
“Sometimes I am and then again I’m not!” he replied with a shrug. “I can’t quite understand why it is that with everything we have, money and the ability to amuse ourselves, we do at times inquire about that Something that never shows itself or gives us a word.”
“Oh, but He does!” She held up the three perfect roses Mills had plucked for her. “He shows Himself in all beautiful things. They’re all trying to tell us that the Something we can’t see or touch has a great deal to do with our lives.”
“Millie,” he said in a tone of mock despair, tapping her hand lightly, “you’re an incorrigible mystic!”
They were interrupted by a knock on the glass door, which swung open, disclosing Leila and Bruce.
“Mr. Storrs and I are dying of curiosity! You’ve been talking here for ages!” cried Leila.
“Millie’s been amusing herself at my expense,” said Mills. “Mr. Storrs, I wish you’d tell me sometime what Miss Harden means when she reaches into the infinite and brings down——”
“Roses!” laughed Millicent.