Myra Nell seemed more chagrined than relieved.
"It was perfectly simple," she informed them. "It happened during the Carnival. I—never heard a man talk the way he did, and I was really worried about his heart. I said no—for fifteen minutes, then we arranged to be married secretly. When it was all over, I was frightened and ran away. You're such a deep, desperate, unforgiving person, Norvin. I—I think it was positively horrid of you."
"Good Lord!" breathed her brother. "What a perverted sense of responsibility!"
"Are we forgiven?"
"It's all right with me, if it is with Norvin," said Bernie, somewhat doubtfully.
"Forgiven?" Blake took the youthful pair by the hands, and in his eyes was a brightness they had never seen. "Of course you are, and let me tell you that you haven't cornered all the love in the world. I've never cared but for one woman. Perhaps you will wish me as much happiness as I wish you both?"
"Then you have found your Italian girl?" queried Myra Nell, with flashing eagerness.
"Vittoria!"
"Vittoria!" Miss Warren shrieked. "Vittoria—a countess! So, she's the one who spoiled everything?"
"Gee! You'll be a count," said Rilleau.