I
The day following his discovery of Leila Mills in the boathouse, Bruce
remained in his apartment. He was not a little awed by the instinct
that had led him to the river--the unlikeliest of places in which to
seek the runaway girl. The poor little drugged body lying there in the
cold room; her deep sigh and the touch of her hand on his face as he
took her up, and more poignantly the look in Franklin Mills’s face when
they met at the door, remained with him, and he knew that these were
things he could never forget....
There was more of superstition and mysticism in his blood than he had
believed. Lounging about his rooms, staring down at the bleak street as
it whitened in a brisk snowfall, his thoughts ranged the wide seas of
doubt and faith. Life was only a corridor between two doors of mystery.
Petty and contemptible seemed the old familiar teachings about God. Men
were not rejecting God; they were merely misled as to his nature. The
spirit of man was only an infinitesimal particle of the spirit that was
God. No other person he had ever talked with had offered so reasonable
a solution of the problem as Millicent.
Again he went over their talk on the golf course. Millicent had the
clue--the clue to a reality no less tangible and plausible because
it was born of unreality. And here was the beginning of wisdom: to
abandon the attempt to explain all things when so manifestly life would
become intolerable if the walls of mystery through which man moves
were battered down. As near as he was able to express it, the soul
required room--all infinity, indeed, as the playground for its proper
exercise. The freer a man’s spirit the greater its capacity for loving
and serving its neighbor souls. Somewhere in the illimitable horizons
of which Millicent dreamed it was imaginable that Something august
and supreme dominated the universe--Something only belittled by every
attempt to find a name for it....
Strange reflections for a healthy young mind in a stalwart, vigorous
young body! Bruce hardly knew himself today. The scent of Leila’s
hair as he bore her out of the boathouse had stirred a tenderness in
his heart that was strange to him. He hoped Franklin Mills had dealt
leniently with Leila. He had no idea what the man would do or say
after finding his daughter in such a plight. He considered telephoning
Mills’s house to ask about her, but dismissed the thought. His duty was
discharged the moment he gave her into her father’s keeping; in all the
circumstances an inquiry would be an impertinence.
Poor Leila! Poor, foolish, wilful, generous-hearted little girl! Her
father was much too conspicuous for her little excursions among the
shoals of folly to pass unremarked. Bruce found himself excusing and
defending her latest escapade. She had taken refuge in the oblivion of
alcohol as an escape from her troubles.... Something wrong somewhere.
Shep and Leila both groping in the dark for the door of happiness
and getting no help from their father in their search--a deplorable
situation. Not altogether Franklin Mills’s fault; perhaps no one’s
fault; just the way things happen, but no less tragic for all that.
Bruce asked the janitor to bring in his meals, content to be alone,
looking forward to a long day in which to brood over his plans for the
memorial. He was glad that he had not run away from Franklin Mills. It
was much better to have remained in the town, and more comfortable to
have met Mills and the members of his family than to have lived in the
same community speculating about them endlessly without ever knowing
them. He knew them now all too well! Even Franklin Mills was emerging
from the mists; Bruce began to think he knew what manner of man Mills
was. Shepherd had opened his own soul to him; and Leila--Bruce made
allowances for Leila and saw her merits with full appreciation. One
thing was certain: he did not envy Franklin Mills or his children their
lot; he coveted nothing they possessed. He thanked his stars that he
had had the wit to reject Mills’s offer to help him into a business
position of promise; to be under obligation of any sort to Franklin
Mills would be intolerable. Through the afternoon he worked desultorily
on his sketches of the Laconia memorial, enjoying the luxury of
undisturbed peace. He began combining in a single drawing his memoranda
of details; was so pleased with the result in crayon that he began
a pen and ink sketch and was still at this when Henderson appeared,
encased in a plaid overcoat that greatly magnified his circumference.
“What’s responsible for this!” Bruce demanded.
“Thanks for your hearty greeting! I called your office at five-minute
intervals all day and that hard-boiled telephone girl said you hadn’t
been there. All the clubs denied knowledge of your whereabouts, so I
clambered into my palatial Plantagenet and sped out, expecting to find
you sunk in mortal illness. You must stop drinking, son.”
“That’s a good one from you! Please don’t sit on those drawings!”
“My mistake. You’re terribly peevish. By the way--what was the row last
night about Leila Mills?” Bud feigned deep interest in a cloisonné jar
that stood on the table.
“Well, what was?” asked Bruce. “I might have known you had something up
your sleeve.”
“Oh, the kid disappeared yesterday long enough to give her father heart
failure. Mills called Maybelle to see if she was at our house; Maybelle
called Connie, and Connie said you’d left a party at her house to chase
the kidnappers. Of course I’m not asking any questions, but I do like
to keep pace with the local news.”
“I’ll say you do!” Bruce grinned at him provokingly. “Did they catch
the kidnappers?”
“Well, Connie called Maybelle later to say that Leila was all safe at
home and in bed. But even Connie didn’t know where you found the erring
lambkin.”
“You’ve called the wrong number,” Bruce said, stretching himself. “I
didn’t find Miss Leila. When I left Connie’s I went to the club to
shoot a little pool.”
“You certainly lie like a gentleman! Come on home with me to dinner;
we’re going to have corn beef and cabbage tonight!”
“In other words, if you can’t make me talk you think Maybelle can!”
“You insult me! Get your hat and let’s skip!”
“No; I’m taking my nourishment right here today. Strange as it may
seem--I’m working!”
“Thanks for the hint! Just for that I hope the job’s a failure.”