She was walking along with her hands thrust into the pockets of her sweater, the brim of her small sport hat turned up above her face. “But seriously,” she went on, “out of doors is the best place to think of God. The churches make religion seem so complicated. We can’t believe in a God we can’t imagine. Where there’s sky and grass it’s all so much simpler. The only God I can feel is a spirit hovering all about, watching and loving us--the God of the Blue Horizons. I can’t think of Him as a being whose name must be whispered as children whisper of terrifying things in the dark.” “The God of the Blue Horizons?” He repeated the phrase slowly. “Yes; the world has had its day of fear--anything that lifts our eyes to the blue sky is good--really gives us, I suppose, a sense of the reality of God....” They had encountered few other players, but a foursome was now approaching them where the lines of the course paralleled. “Constance Mills and George Whitford; I don’t know the others,” said Millicent. Mrs. Mills waved her hand and started toward them, looking very fit in a smart sport suit. Idly twirling her driver, she had hardly the air of a zealous golfer. “Ah!” she exclaimed. “Aren’t we the brave ones? Scotch blood! Not afraid of a little moisture. Mr. Storrs! I know now why you’ve never been to see me--you’re better occupied. It’s dreadful to be an old married woman. You see what happens, Millicent! I warn you solemnly against marriage. Yes, George--I’m coming. Nice to meet you, even by chance, Mr. Storrs. By-by, Millie.” “You’ve displeased her ladyship,” Millicent remarked. “You ought to go to see her.” “I haven’t felt strongly moved,” Bruce replied. “She doesn’t like being ignored. Of course nobody does, but Mrs. Mills demands to be amused.” “Is she being amused now?” Bruce asked. “I wish Leila could have heard that!” “Doesn’t Leila like her sister-in-law?” “Yes, of course she does, but Constance is called the most beautiful and the best dressed woman in town and the admiration she gets goes to her head a little bit. George Whitford seems to admire her tremendously. Leila has a sense of humor that sees right through Constance’s poses.” “Doesn’t Leila pose just a little herself?” “You might say that she does. Just now she’s affecting the fast young person pose; but I think she’s about through with it. She’s really the finest girl alive, but she kids herself with the idea that she’s an awful devil. Her whole crowd are affected by the same bug.” “I rather guessed that,” said Bruce. “Let me see--was that five for you?” III When they reached the clubhouse Millicent proposed that they go home for the tea which alone could fittingly conclude the afternoon. The moment they entered the Harden hall she lifted her arms dramatically. “Jumbles!” she cried in a mockery of delight. “Mother has been making jumbles! Come straight to the kitchen!”