CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
In the Car Together
It was the day after Val had sent off the joyful tidings to his friends in the big world beyond the Hill Farm that tidings from the big world came to him.
Thanks to Miss Moon, the letters from home were lost; but greatly as that lady would have delighted in so sweeping a measure, it was impossible to keep P. Gordon for ever in the dark, by destroying whole issues of New York journals.
Uncle Wally was in the habit of bringing the gentleman chauffeur his breakfast, and with that meal—which consisted of delicious Southern dishes—the morning paper.
Loveland did not find American news particularly exciting, and, as a rule, merely glanced through the paper as he ate; but "New York Light" had a special interest for him. He associated it not only with his first American adventures, but with Tony Kidd, for whom he felt a queer, friendly sort of regard since their work together and their short chat afterwards at Alexander the Great's. If Val were to be "righted" in the eyes of New York, he had the idea that it would be through the pen of Tony Kidd, which had once blackened him with so scandalous a spatter of ink.
Miss Dearmer, or Mrs. Loveland, subscribed for the Sunday edition of "New York Light," and today was Monday. The paper had arrived: and as Loveland rose early to attend to the car (with far more alacrity than he had ever risen for guard mounting at home) it appeared that he was to have first chance at the news.
His eyes lighted with a certain interest as he saw the paper laid conspicuously on the breakfast tray; for this was his first Monday at the Hill Farm, and consequently his first sight of the New York Sunday paper.
"I suppose the ladies won't be wanting this for a few minutes yet?"
"No, sah, ole Miss nevah looks at de papahs till a'tah brekfus, and young Miss was writin' late las' night, so she won't be ringin' yet awhile, I reckon," said the grey-headed darkey who had been a slave when Mrs. Loveland was a child.