"Thank you, Mrs. Bivens," she replied cordially. "I couldn't hold a grudge against any one in that audience to-night."
And then Stuart did something that sent a shock through every fibre of Nan's being.
As easily and naturally as a big brother, he slipped one of his long arms around Harriet and looked down with frank admiration into her eyes.
"You see, Nan, she's mine. I raised her from a wee little mite. And this was such a cruel and dangerous experiment—she had no chance. It was impossible—but, God bless her, she did it!"
Nan apologized for hurrying away and Stuart was compelled to follow.
As he settled back among the soft cushions of the car by her side and the big machine glided swiftly up Broadway toward the Bivens palace, his enthusiasm burst out anew:
"Honestly, Nan, don't you think her a wonderful little girl? And just to think she's my kid——"
"Rather a remarkably developed kid, Jim!" was the laughing answer. "She's splendid. The depth and range, power and sweetness of her voice are marvellous. Her fame will fill the world."
"Then you can't wonder that I'm proud of her."
"No," she answered, dreamily. She could afford to be generous. Warned in time and she had made up her mind instantly to act on a plan that had been vaguely forming and tempting her for the past months. It was her trump card; she had hesitated to play it, but she would do it now without delay.