“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.
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.