“I can tell you how it is, Millie.  Quiet and gentle as you seem, you have a tremendous will of your own, and very strong-willed people don’t get on well together.”

“Astute little mother!  Well, explain it in any way that pleases you, only keep your promise not to let him become the bane of my life.”

“I’m not at all sure but that Belle will soon usurp your place in his regard, nor would I object, for I am very anxious about the child.  I know that her present life seems dull to her, and the temptations of the city to a girl with a nature like hers are legion.  He can be a very useful friend to her, and he seems to me manly and trustworthy.  I’m not often deceived in my impressions of people, and he inspires me with confidence, and has from the first.  I never saw anything underhand in him at the farm.”

“Oh, no, he’s honest enough, no doubt.”

“There, Millie,” resumed her mother, laughing, “you have a woman’s reason for your feelings—­you don’t like him, and that is the end of it.  You must admit, however, that he has improved wonderfully.  I never saw a young fellow so changed, so thoroughly waked up.  He has sense, too, in little things.  One would think from his dress he had been born and bred in the city.  They didn’t palm off an old-fashioned suit on him, if he was from the country.

“Chant his praises to Belle, mamma, and she will greatly appreciate this last proof of his superiority.  To me he seems like his clothes—­a little too new.  Still I admit that he can be of very great service to Belle; and if he will restrict his attentions to her I will be as polite as either of you can wish.  I, too, feel a very deep sympathy for Belle.  She is little more than a child, and yet her life is imposing upon her the monotonous work of a middle-aged woman, and I fear the consequences.  It’s contrary to nature, and no one knows it better than she.  If he will help us take care of her I shall be grateful indeed; but if he grows sentimental and follows me as he did this morning, I could not endure it—­indeed I could not.”

“Well, Millie dear, we won’t cross any bridges till we come to them.”

CHAPTER XXV

THE DARK SHADOW OF COMING EVENTS

During the sermon it must be admitted that Belle’s thoughts wandered from the text and its able development by Mr. Wentworth.  In fact, she was developing a little scheme of her own, and, as the result, whispered at the close of service, “Mamma, Roger and I are going to take a walk in the Park.  Can’t I ask him home to supper?  This is his first Sunday in town, and it will be so dismal—­”

“Yes, child, go and have a good time.”

Within the next five minutes radiant Belle was an unconscious embodiment of foreordination to Roger.  He had had no idea of going to the Park, but Belle had decreed he should go, and as he smilingly accompanied her he certainly remained a very contented free agent.