I
Henderson made his wife’s return an excuse for giving a party at the Faraway Country Club. Mrs. Henderson had brought home a trophy from the golf tournament and her prowess must be celebrated. She was a tall blonde with a hearty, off-hand manner, and given to plain, direct speech. She treated Bud as though he were a younger brother, to be humored to a certain point and then reminded a little tartly of the limitations of her tolerance.
When Bruce arrived at the club he found his hostess and Mrs. Freeman receiving the guests in the hall and directing them to a dark end of the veranda where Bud was holding forth with a cocktail-shaker. Obedient to their hint, he stumbled over the veranda chairs until he came upon a group of young people gathered about Bud, who was energetically compounding drinks as he told a story. Bruce knew the story; it was the oldest of Bud’s yarns, and his interest wavered to become fixed immediately upon a girl beside him who was giving Bud her complete attention. Even in the dim light of the veranda there was no mistaking her: she was the Millicent Harden he had rescued from the sand bar. At the conclusion of the story she joined in the general laugh and turned round to find Bruce regarding her intently.
“I beg your pardon,” he said and bowed gravely.
“Oh, you needn’t!” she replied quickly.
He lifted his head to find her inspecting him with an amused smile.
“I might find someone to introduce us—Mr. Henderson, perhaps,” he said. “My name—if the matter is important—is Bruce Storrs.”
“Possibly we might complete the introduction unassisted—my name is Millicent Harden!”
“How delightful! Shall we dance?”
After the dance he suggested that they step out for a breath of air. They found seats and she said immediately: