But the chief thing at Cypher's was Milly. Milly was a waitress.
One of us compared the harmony existing between a Haydn symphony and pistache ice cream to the exquisite congruity between Milly and Cypher's.
"There is a certain fate hanging over Milly," said Kraft, "and if it overtakes her she is lost to Cypher's and to us."
"One day," concluded Kraft, solemnly, "there will come to Cypher's for a plate of beans a millionaire lumberman from Wisconsin, and he will marry Milly."
Milly, like some vast virgin stretch of pine woods, was made to catch the lumberman's eye.
"Why, mother--the curtain is up!" cried Milly, dividing her amazed stare between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
"Why, n-no, of course not," rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as she reached for the medicine bottle.
No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment.
I know I oughtn't to have gone away with Milly
, but I simply couldn't help myself.
Come here, Milly, and tell me why you can't be satisfied with my assurance.'
And did you never, Milly, observe the sands on the sea-shore; how nice and smooth they look, and how soft and easy they feel to the foot?
'You mustn't mind my talk, Milly. A man must have something to grumble about; and if he can't complain that his wife harries him to death with her perversity and ill-humour, he must complain that she wears him out with her kindness and gentleness.'