“Mr. Mills and Leila are leaving in a few days,” she remarked quickly. “I don’t believe he’s much of a success as a matchmaker. It’s been in the air for several years that Leila must marry Arthur Carroll, but he doesn’t appear to be making any headway.” “Leila will do as she pleases,” said Freeman, who was satisfied with a very little gossip. “Bruce, how do you feel about tackling that Laconia war memorial?” Bruce’s native town was to build a museum as a memorial to the soldiers in all her wars, from the Revolutionary patriots who had settled the county to the veterans of the Great War. Freeman had encouraged Bruce to submit plans, which were to be passed on by a jury of the highest distinction. Freeman kept strictly to domestic architecture; but Bruce’s ideas about the memorial had impressed him by their novelty. His young associate had, he saw, a natural bent for monumental structures that had been increased by the contemplation of the famous memorials in Europe. They went into the Freemans’ study to talk over the specifications and terms of the competition, and by midnight Bruce was so reassured by his senior’s confidence that it was decided he should go to work immediately on his plans. “It would be splendid, Bruce!” said Dale, who had sewed during the discussion, throwing in an occasional apt comment and suggestion. “The people of Laconia would have all the more pride in their heroes if one of them designed the memorial. It’s not big enough to tempt the top-notchers in the profession, but if you land it it will push you a long way up!” “Yes; it would be a big thing for you,” Freeman added. “You’d better drop your work in the office and concentrate on it....” Undeterred by the cold, Bruce drove daily into the country, left his car and walked--walked with a new energy begotten of definite ambition and faith in his power of achievement. To create beautiful things: this had been his mother’s prayer for him. He would do this for her; he would create a thing of beauty that should look down forever upon the earth that held her dust. The site of the proposed building was on the crest of a hill on the outskirts of Laconia and within sight of its main street. Bruce had known the spot all his life and had no trouble in visualizing its pictorial possibilities. The forest trees that crowned the hill would afford a picturesque background for an open colonnade that he meant to incorporate in his plans. Walking on clear, cold nights he fancied that he saw on every hilltop the structure as it would be, with the winds playing through its arches and wistful young moons coming through countless years to bless it anew with the hope and courage of youth. II On Shep’s account rather than because of any interest he felt in Constance, Bruce had twice looked in at the Shepherd Mills’s on Constance’s day at home.