V
His glimpse of Franklin Mills and Millicent at the conservatory door affected Bruce disagreeably. The fact that the two had been discussing impersonal matters did not lessen his resentment. Millicent with Mills’s roses in her hand; Mills courteously attentive, addressing the girl with what to Bruce was a lover-like air, had made a picture that greatly disturbed him.
Very likely, with much this same air, with the same winning manner and voice, Mills had wooed his mother! He saw in Mills a sinister figure—a man who, having taken advantage of one woman, was not to be trusted with another. The pity he had at times felt for Mills went down before a wave of jealous anger and righteous indignation. The man was incapable of any true appreciation of Millicent; he was without wit or soul to penetrate to the pure depths of the girl’s nature.
“You two are always talking about things I don’t understand!” Leila said to them; and led Bruce on through the conservatories, talking in her inconsequential fashion.
When they returned to the house someone had begun playing old-fashioned games—blindman’s buff, drop the handkerchief and London Bridge. When these ceased to amuse, the rugs were cleared away and they danced to the phonograph. Mills encouraged and participated in all this as if anxious to show that he could be as young as the youngest. And what occasion could be more fitting than an evening in his handsome country house, with his children and their friends about him!
With Millicent constantly before his eyes, entering zestfully into all these pleasures, Bruce recovered his tranquillity. For the thousandth time he convinced himself that he was not a weakling to suffer specters of the past and forebodings of the future to mar his life. He danced with Millicent; seized odd moments in which to talk to her; tried to believe that she had a particular smile for him....
“I wonder if you’d drive me in?” asked Mrs. Torrence when the party began to break up.
“I’d been counting on it!” said Bruce promptly.
Constance came along and waived her rights to his escort, as she and Shepherd were taking the Freemans home.
“I believe we’re a little better acquainted than we were,” she said meaningfully.
“It seemed to me we made a little headway,” Bruce replied.
“Come and see me soon! You never can tell when I’ll need a little consoling.”
“That was a good party,” Mrs. Torrence began as Bruce got his car in motion. “Mr. Mills is two or three different men. Sometimes I think he consciously assumes a variety of rôles. He’s keen about this country gentleman stuff—unassuming grandeur and all that! But meet him out at dinner in town tomorrow night and you’d never think him capable of playing drop the handkerchief! Makes you wonder just which is the real Mills.”
“Maybe we all lead two or three existences without knowing it,” Bruce remarked.
“We do! We do, indeed!” the little woman cheerfully agreed. “All except me. I’m always just the same and too much of that!”
“Well, you always come up with a laugh and that helps. Please let me into the secret.”
“My dear boy, I learned early in life to hide my tears. Nobody’s interested in a cry-baby. And minding my own business saves a lot of bother. I think I’ve acquired that noble trait!”
“That’s genius!” exclaimed Bruce.
“But—in your case I may not do it! I like you, you know.”
“Am I to believe that?” he asked seriously.
“I hope you’ll believe it. I offered at the beginning of the evening to be your friend until death do us part; I’ve done some thinking since. I do think occasionally, though you’d never guess it.”
“It’s an old trick of the world to be mistrustful of thinkers. I’ve suffered from it myself.”
“Listen to me, young man! I’ve got my eye on you. I suggested to Connie that it would be simpler for her to go in with Shep. I love Connie; she’s always been nice to me. But Connie’s not just a safe chum for you. Your fascinations might be a trifle too—too——”
“Too,” he supplied mockingly, “much for me?”
“Don’t be silly! Connie’s a young woman of charm, and she likes to use it. And you’re not without a little of the same ingredient. You may be nice and friendly with Connie—and Shep—but you mustn’t forget that there is Shep. Shep’s a nice, dear boy. I’m strong for Shepherd. I could cry when I see how much in love he is with Connie! And of course she doesn’t love him in any such way. She sort o’ mothers and pets him. She still has her grand love affair before her. Isn’t this nasty of me to be talking of her in this fashion! But I don’t want you to be the victim. One drive alone with her is enough for you in one evening!”
“Oh, but——”
“Oh, all the buts! We haven’t been talking of her at all! Aren’t the shadows of that tall tree interesting?”
The shadows of the tall tree were not particularly interesting, but Bruce, speculating a little as to what Mrs. Torrence would say if she knew he had kissed Constance on the drive out, was guiltily glad that she had concluded what he felt to be a well-meant warning against getting in too deep with Mrs. Shepherd Mills.
“You’ve got a big future,” Mrs. Torrence remarked later. “Nothing’s going to spoil it. But socially, walk softly. This is a city of illusions. It’s the fashion to pretend that everybody’s awfully good. Of course everybody isn’t! But it’s better to fall in with the idea. I’m just giving you the hint. Take Franklin Mills for your model. Always know the right people and do the right thing. There’s a man who never sinned in all his life. You’re lucky to have caught his eye so soon! I saw him watching you tonight—with approval, I mean. He’s a man of power. I advise you to cultivate him a little.”
“Oh, my knowing him is just a matter of chance,” Bruce replied indifferently.
“He’s the most interesting man in town and all the more so because he’s puzzling—not all on the surface. An unusual person. And to think he has a daughter like Leila and a son like Shep! I love them both; they’re so unlike him! You wouldn’t know them for the same breed. One couldn’t love him, you know; he’s far too selfish and self-satisfied for that!”