“They’re such dear, patient little angels,” murmured Millicent. “You feel better about all humanity when you see how much courage there is in the world. It’s a pretty brave old world after all.”
“It’s the most amazing thing about life,” said Bruce, “that so many millions rise up every morning bent on doing their best. You’d think the whole human race would have given up the struggle long ago and jumped into the sea. But no! Poor boobs that we are, we go whistling right along. Frankly, I mean to hang on a couple of weeks longer. Silly old world—but—it has its good points.”
“Great applause!” exclaimed Helen, satisfied now that her little party was not to prove an utter failure. These were two interesting young people, she knew, and she was anxious to hear their views on matters about which she troubled herself more than most people suspected.
“I’ve wondered sometimes,” Millicent said, “what would happen if the world could be made altogether happy just once by a miracle of some kind, no heartache anywhere; no discomfort! How long would it last?”
“Only till some person among the millions wanted something another one had; that would start the old row over again,” Bruce answered.
“I see what you children mean,” said Helen seriously. “Selfishness is what makes the world unhappy!”
“Now—we’re getting in deep!” Bruce exclaimed. “Millicent always swims for the open water.”
“Millie ought to go about lecturing; telling people to be calm, to look more at the stars and less at their neighbors’ new automobiles. I believe that would do a lot of good,” said Helen.
“A splendid idea!” Bruce declared, laughing into Millicent’s eyes. “But what a sacrifice of herself! A wonderful exhibition of unselfishness, but——”
“I’d be stoned to death!”