I
Franklin Mills landed in New York feeling that his excursion abroad
had been well worth while. Leila had been the cheeriest of companions
and Mills felt that he knew her much better than he had ever known
her before. They had stopped in Paris and he had cheerfully indulged
her extravagance in raiment. Throughout the trip nothing marred their
intercourse. Mills’s pride and vanity were touched by the admiring eyes
that followed them. In countries where wine and spirits were everywhere
visible Leila betrayed no inclination to drink, even when he urged some
rare vintage upon her. The child had character; he detected in her the
mental and physical energy, the shrewdness, the ability to reason,
that were a distinguishing feature of the Mills tradition. Shep hadn’t
the swift, penetrating insight of Leila. Leila caught with a glance of
the eye distinct impressions which Shep would have missed even with
laborious examination. Shep, nevertheless, was a fine boy; reluctant
as he was to acknowledge an error even to himself, Mills, mellowed by
distance, thought perhaps it had been a mistake to forbid Shep to study
medicine; and yet he had tried to do the right thing by Shep. It was
important for the only son of the house of Mills to know the worth of
property.
The only son.... When Mills thought of Shep and Leila he thought, too,
of Storrs--Bruce Storrs with his undeniable resemblance to Franklin
Mills III. There were times when by some reawakening of old memories
through contact with new scenes--in Venice, at Sorrento, in motoring
into Scotland from the English lake country--in all places that invited
to retrospective contemplation he lived over again those months he had
spent in Laconia.
Strangely, that period revived with intense vividness. Released from
the routine of his common life, he indulged his memories, estimating
their value, fixing their place in his life. That episode seemed
the most important of all; he had loved that woman. He had been a
blackguard and a scoundrel; there was no escaping that, but he could
not despise himself. Sometimes Leila, noting his deep preoccupation on
long motor drives, would tease him to tell her what he was thinking
about and he was hard put to satisfy her that he hadn’t a care in the
world. Once, trying to ease an attack of homesickness, she led him into
speculation as to what their home-folks were doing--Shep and Connie,
Millicent, and in the same connection she mentioned Bruce.
“What an awful nice chap he is, Dada. He’s a prince. You’d know him for
a thoroughbred anywhere. Arthur Carroll says his people were just nice
country town folks--father a lawyer, I think Arthur said. The Freemans
back him strong, and they’re not people you can fool much.”
“Mr. Storrs is a gentleman,” said Mills. “And a young man of fine
gifts. I’ve had several talks with him about his work and ambitions.
He’ll make his mark.”
“He’s good to look at! Millicent says there’s a Greek-god look about
him.”
“Millicent likes him?” asked Mills with an effort at indifference which
did not wholly escape Leila’s vigilant eye.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s more than that. You never can tell about
Millie.”
This was in Edinburgh, shortly before they sailed for home. All things
considered the trip abroad had been a success. Leila had not to the
best of his knowledge communicated with Thomas--she had made a point
of showing him the letters she received and giving him her own letters
to mail. Very likely, Mills thought, she had forgotten all about her
undesirable suitor, and as a result of the change of scene and the new
amity established between them, would fulfill her destiny by marrying
Carroll.