“I’m afraid I haven’t said all I’d like to say about your success. It’s a big achievement. I want you to know that I realize all that. I’m glad—and proud. Many happy returns of the day!”
She gave him both her hands and this more than her words crowned the day for him. He had never been so happy. He really had hold of life; he could do things, he could do much finer things than the Laconia memorial! On his way to the gate he saw beyond the hedge a shadowy figure moving across the Mills lawn. When he reached the street he glanced back, identified Mills, and on an impulse entered the grounds. Mills was pacing back and forth, his head bowed, his hands thrust into his pockets. He started when he discerned Bruce, who walked up to him quickly.
“Oh—that you, Storrs? Glad to see you! It’s a sultry night and I’m staying out as long as possible.”
“I stopped to tell you a little piece of news. The Laconia memorial jury has made its report; my plans are accepted.”
“How fine! Why—I’m delighted to hear this. I hope everything’s as you wanted it.”
“Yes, sir; the fund was increased and the thing can be done now without skimping. I put in the fountain—I’m greatly obliged to you for that suggestion. You ought to have the credit for it.”
“Oh, no, no!” Mills exclaimed hastily. “You’d probably have thought of it yourself—merely a bit of supplementary decoration. You’ll be busy now—supervising the construction?”
“Yes; I want to look after all the details. It will keep me busy for the next year. Carroll is going over to Laconia with me tomorrow.”
“Good! It will be quite an event—going back to your old home to receive the laurel! I hope your work will stand for centuries!”
“Thank you, sir; good-night.”