"Heaven knows you were," Val admitted, humbly.
"But I'm not too good—no, not good enough, for what you give me now; and that's why I'm so frightfully happy, and delighted that Sidney's motor jumped over conventionalities instead of my having to take the leap myself. Instead, I just leaped with the car, and you leaped, too—and everything is going to be Heavenly for all the rest of our lives."
"I don't quite see how, if you're not tired of Cremer," said Loveland.
"Don't be jealous of Sidney any more; I liked making you a little jealous of him at first—after I saw how you felt. It was fun for me—and I thought it was good for you. But now it's different. I'm sure—sure—about the other side of the moon, and I want you to be as happy as I am. Oh, don't speak yet! I must go on a little further. You know, I told you I had a telegram this morning?"
"Yes—yes."
"Well, you thought it was from Sidney Cremer, and I didn't contradict. Lots of things you've thought lately I let you go on thinking, without contradicting. The telegram was from little Fanny Milton—about you."
"About me?"
"She knew from a journalist who is a friend of hers that you'd come to this part of the country with a theatrical troupe, and they'd found out that the actors were playing pieces of Sidney Cremer's at Ashville. They talked it over together—Fanny and this Mr. Kidd. He wanted to know for his paper's sake where you'd disappeared to when the company broke up. Last evening he suggested that she should telegraph to me. They both thought I might have heard about you. So that's why I felt that you wouldn't be stopping on as my chauffeur very long."
"Did Miss Milton say in the telegram that New York had discovered its mistake about me?"
"No, she didn't say that, though it was a long telegram. I expect she thought I would have seen the newspapers. Well, I haven't; but I can put two and two together quite nicely, and I was sure that you'd come into your own again with the great American public—perhaps partly through Fanny Milton's Mr. Kidd. I'd be willing to wager all the profits of Sidney Cremer's next play or novel—if I had them—that you can now go back, if you like, and get without any difficulty the heiress you came across the water for."