Bruce and Millicent were married the next June. A few friends gathered
in the garden late on a golden afternoon--Leila and Thomas, the
Freemans, the Hendersons, a few relatives of the Hardens from their old
home, and Carroll and Bruce’s cousin from Laconia. The marriage service
was read by Dr. Lindley and the music was provided by a choir of robins
in the elms and maples. Franklin Mills was not present; but before
Bruce and Millicent drove to the station they passed through the gate
in the boundary hedge--Leila had arranged this--and received his good
wishes.
The fourth of July had been set as the time for the dedication of the
memorial. The event brought together a great company of dignitaries,
and the governor of the state and the Secretary of War were the
speakers. Mills had driven over with Leila and Thomas, and he sat with
them, Millicent beside him.
Bruce hovered on the edges of the crowd, listening to comments on his
work, marveling himself that it was so good. The chairman of the local
committee sent for him at the conclusion of the ceremonies to introduce
him to the distinguished visitors. When the throng had dispersed,
Millicent, with Carroll and Leila, paused by the fountain to wait until
Bruce was free.
“This is what you get, Millie, for having a famous husband,” Leila
remarked. “He’s probably signing a contract for another monument!”
“There he is!” exclaimed Carroll, pointing up the slope.
Bruce and Mills were slowly pacing one of the colonnades. Beyond
it lay the woodland that more than met Bruce’s expectations as a
background for the memorial. They were talking earnestly, wholly
unaware that they were observed. As they turned once more to retrace
their steps Mills, unconsciously it seemed, laid his arm across Bruce’s
shoulders; and Millicent, seeing and understanding, turned away to hide
her tears.