Mills listened as Bruce explained the requirements of the Laconia memorial and illustrated with the drawings what he proposed to offer.
“Laconia?” Mills repeated the name quickly. “How very interesting!”
“You may recall the site,” Bruce went on, displaying a photograph of the hilltop.
“I remember the place very well; there couldn’t be a finer site. I suppose the town owns the entire hill? That’s a fine idea—to adjust the building to that bit of forest; the possibilities are enormous for effective handling. There should be a fitting approach—terraces, perhaps a fountain directly in front of the entrance—something to prepare the eye as the visitor ascends——”
“That hadn’t occurred to me!” said Bruce. “It would be fine!”
Mills, his interest growing, slipped out of his overcoat and sat down in the chair beside the drawing board.
“Those colonnades extending at both sides give something of the effect of wings—buoyancy is what I mean,” he remarked. “I like the classical severity of the thing. Beauty can be got with a few lines—but they must be the right ones. Nature’s a sound teacher there.”
Bruce forgot that there was any tie between them; Laconia became only a place where a soldiers’ memorial was to be constructed. Mills’s attitude toward the project was marked by the restraint, the diffidence of a man of breeding wary of offending but eager to help. Bruce had seen at once the artistic value of the fountain. He left Mills at the drawing table and paced the floor, pondering it. The look of weariness left Mills’s face. He was watching with frankly admiring eyes the tall figure, the broad, capable shoulders, the finely molded head, the absorbed, perplexed look in the handsome face. Not like Shep; not like any other young man he knew was this Bruce Storrs. He had not expected to remain more than ten minutes, but he was finding it difficult to leave.
Remembering that he had a guest, Bruce glanced at Mills and caught the look in his face. For a moment both were embarrassed.
“Do pardon me!” Bruce exclaimed quickly. “I was just trying to see my way through a thing or two. I’m afraid I’m boring you.”