stand American customs yet, and asked if I had the heart to spoil
the happiest day of his life?

I couldn't resist telling him it was the happiest of mine, too--that I
had never amused myself half as well.

"Not even in Newport?" said he.

"Not even in Newport," I repeated. "It was delightful there, and
everybody was kind and charming to me, but--you see I had no _real_
friends, like you, to go about with; and that makes the greatest
difference, doesn't it?"

His eyes lit up again at that, and I could see the blood mounting under
his brown skin.

"All the difference in the world," he answered in a low voice. Then he
looked as if he were going to say something else, but shut his lips
tight together and didn't. One wouldn't dare speak out the truth like
this, to a rich man one might be supposed to be trying to marry; I
remember enough of what Mother and Vic have told me about proper
behaviour in a debutante, to know that. But I've never wanted to talk
in such a way to any man except Mr. Brett, which is lucky, as he always
understands me; and that's one reason why it's pleasanter to be with
him than any other person I've ever met yet.

XVI

ABOUT THE VALLEY FARM

After all, Mr. Brett's ticket was different from mine again, but I
suppose he couldn't arrange to have the same kind and see something of
me on the journey, because, as I'd asked him, he would have done it if
possible. We went back part of the way we had come the night before, in
the same grand kind of train, as far as Cleveland, which we reached in
the morning, quite early. We got out there, for no fine trains like
that stop at the village near which Mr. Brett's cousins live, and he
said the best thing we could do would be to drive to the farm in a
motor car. It was about forty miles away, but with a good car which he
could easily get, we wouldn't be more than two hours, allowing for bad
roads. If we didn't take a motor, we should have to wait half the
morning for a slow train, and then have a drive at the end, of six or
seven miles in some kind of a country conveyance.

When I hesitated, thinking of expense, Mr. Brett explained that among
his many other occupations, he had once acted as a chauffeur,
therefore, knowing the tricks of the trade and being a sort of
professional himself, he could always hire a motor at a nominal price.
This settled my doubts. We drove in a cab to a hotel, where he left me,
with Vivace, while he went to search for