“Not so bad, Dada. Millie’s one of these lazy players; she doesn’t care whether she wins or loses, and I guess I’m too temperamental to be a good golfer.”
“I thought Millie was pretty strong on temperament herself,” remarked Shepherd.
“Well, Millie is and she isn’t. She’s not the sort that flies all to pieces when anything goes wrong.”
“Millie’s a pretty fine girl,” declared Shepherd.
“Millicent really has charm,” remarked Constance, though without enthusiasm.
“Millie’s a perfect darling!” said Leila. “She’s so lovely to her father and mother! They’re really very nice. Everybody knocks Doc Harden, but he’s not a bad sort. It’s a shame the way people treat them. Mrs. Harden’s a dear, sweet thing; plain and sensible and doesn’t look pained when I cuss a little.” She gave her father a sly look, but he feigned inattention. “Dada, how do you explain Millie?”
“Well, I don’t,” replied Mills, with a broad smile at the abruptness of the question. “It’s just as well that everything and everybody on this planet can’t be explained and don’t have to be. I’ve come to a time of life when I’m a little fed up on things that can be reduced to figures. I want to be mystified!”
Leila pointed her finger at him across the table.
“I’ll say you like mystery! If there was ever a human being who just had to have the facts, you’re it! I know because I’ve tried hiding milliners’ bills from you.”
“Well, I usually pay them,” Mills replied good-humoredly. “Now that you’ve spoken of bills, I’d like to ask you——”