Carrissima could not make up her mind. When she set forth to Charteris Street to help in the entertainment of Phoebe's extremely juvenile guests, she was determined not to go near Golfney Place the following day. Seeing her amongst the children no one would have imagined that she had a sorrow in the world; she was the life and soul of the youthful party, and finally returned to Grandison Square in a becomingly dishevelled condition in time for dinner.

The following morning Colonel Faversham went to the hall at eleven o'clock, wearing a flower in his buttonhole. Carrissima accompanying him dutifully to the door, remarked that he had a new top hat.

"Do you think it suits me?" he asked, turning to face her. "Not too much brim, Carrissima?"

"It looks a trifle small," she answered.

"Small—nonsense! A man doesn't want a hat to come down over his eyes.
I'm not a fogy yet, I hope."

"Why, of course not," she exclaimed. "Still, you will have to hold it on in the wind."

"Anyhow, that's better than using infernal pins that are a danger to the community," said Colonel Faversham. "I'll tell you what: next time I choose a hat I'll get you to come with me."

"I suppose you will be home to lunch," she suggested, telling herself she was shamefully cunning. But she could not help suspecting that he was off on some jaunt with Bridget, and no doubt she felt a little bitter about it.

"Shall I?" he answered, with a laugh. "Don't take too much for granted. I may get a snack at the club. Anyhow, you had better not wait."

She understood that he did not intend to return and wondered how she should dispose of her silver card-case. In no event would she go near Golfney Place that day! At about noon, however, it arrived from Donaldson's in a cardboard box, and really seemed too pretty to be wasted. There, too, were Bridget's initials, neatly engraved on its face, and, perhaps, after all, Colonel Faversham was reckoning without his guest. Miss Rosser might refuse to accept his present, whatever it might be—Carrissima felt very curious to know! She might decline to go out with him, and then her birthday would be spent in utter loneliness. Carrissima pictured her with melancholy reminiscences of her father and mother. Because whatever the girl's faults might be, she was certainly not lacking in natural affection. Surely some allowances ought to be made for the circumstances of the case. Carrissima was excellent at making allowances for people! She was one of those tiresome, inconsistent young women who remain blind to the teachings of reason and experience, and ever find some remnants of good in the rag-bags of humanity.

Bridget had lost her mother when she was eighteen! She had knocked about with her father for several years since. Of course she ought not to have encouraged Mark's visits night after night, as doubtless she had done; but, then, she may have had the intelligence to see that Mark was a man in a thousand—in a thousand! Mark was a man in a million!

In the end Carrissima left Grandison Square at a few minutes before four o'clock that afternoon, and having rung the bell at Number 5, Golfney Place, she was crushed to hear from Miller that Bridget had been out since a quarter to twelve.

"Oh!" said Carrissima, ashamed of her own artfulness, "I suppose she went with Colonel Faversham?"

"Yes," returned Miller.

"Do you know where they have gone?" asked Carrissima.

"Colonel Faversham told the chauffeur to drive to Richmond."

"To Richmond—thank you," said Carrissima. "I will come another day." Then she turned away with the card-case still in her hand and a heavier weight at her heart. She wished she had never gone to Crowborough that summer five years ago! Very devoutly she wished that Mark Driver had not visited the Old Masters' Exhibition. She had not walked far on her way home when she saw Jimmy Clynesworth coming towards her, and thought it rather early in the year for him to be wearing a straw hat in London.

Of course he stopped to speak. Jimmy was not the man to allow any one he knew to pass by, although for once in a way Carrissima would sooner have avoided the encounter.

"Have you heard from Sybil lately?" she asked.

"Oh yes, she's still with old Lady Ramsbottom—enjoying herself to the top of her bent, no doubt! You may be certain Sybil's having a rattling good time! She always revels in illness. Goodness knows when I shall see her again. Where are you bound for?" asked Jimmy, as Carrissima showed signs of impatience.

"For home and tea," was the answer.

"Let me give you some," he urged, walking on by her side.

"No, thank you, Jimmy!"

"Carrissima," he said, with a glance at her profile, "what in the world's the matter?"

"Why, nothing, of course!"

"Oh yes, there's something," he insisted. "I flatter myself I'm good at reading faces, you know, and yours is always interesting—one never has to read between the lines."

"Does that mean I wear my heart on my sleeve?" she demanded.

"Naturally you fancy you're inscrutable," said Jimmy, with a laugh.
"We all do. Come now, suppose you tell me what it is!"

"What would be the use—if there were anything?"

"You might enable me to do you a good turn! If I couldn't cure your woe I could possibly make you forget it. Besides, people do tell me things. You would be astonished to hear what confidences are poured into my ears."

"Is that because you're sympathetic, or simply because you're rich?" suggested Carrissima.

"What's that you're carrying?" he asked, with a shrug.

"A card-case," she replied.

"May I look?" he said, holding out his hand. After a momentary hesitation she let him take it, whereupon he had no scruple about opening the box. "Hullo! who is B. R.?" he demanded.

"Nobody you know, Jimmy!"

"Bridget Rosser!" he exclaimed. "You see what a memory I have. Is to-day any special occasion?"

"Her birthday," said Carrissima.

"How old is she?"

"Twenty-three!"

"What a delectable age! The same as your own. But if you're taking
Miss Rosser a present," he added, "how is it you are on the way home?"

"Jimmy, you make me tired," said Carrissima. "I wish you wouldn't ask so many questions."

"I can't help it," he replied. "An inquiring turn of mind, you know. I haven't forgotten that Sybil is to pay your friend a visit directly she gets back."

"Indeed, there is not the slightest necessity," said Carrissima.

"Hullo! so you've changed your mind?"

"I suppose that is allowable."

"Where does she live?" Jimmy persisted.

"Wild horses wouldn't drag her address from me!" cried Carrissima, laughing quite cheerfully, "and kindly give me back the card-case."

He came to a standstill close to Colonel Faversham's house as he put it back in her hand.

"Now, I'm off," he said. "That's all I was waiting for."

"What?" asked Carrissima.

"To hear you laugh again."

"Jimmy," she said, "I sometimes wonder whether your inveterate cheerfulness is the sign of a shallow mind!"

"Oh well, you see, it's one of the few useful things I can do," he answered. "To swing a light about."

"Still, it isn't always safe to go full speed ahead," she suggested.

"Oh dear, no," said Jimmy. "We all have to put the brakes hard on now and then; but the fact remains that a coward dies a hundred deaths, you know."

Carrissima entered the house a moment after he walked away, and going to the drawing-room sat down to tea just as she was in her hat and jacket.

Could it be possible that her father seriously thought of marriage? In that event, the whole course of her life would be altered! She could never consent to stay at home if Bridget ruled the roast! Looking at her watch, presently, Carrissima saw that it was about the time when Lawrence could usually be found in the bosom of his family, and going down-stairs again she let herself out of the house. On reaching Charteris Street she saw him with Victor on his knees, whilst Phoebe on hers looked at the boy with anxious eyes.

He looked pale and fretful in consequence of yesterday's party, and when his nurse had carried him out of the room to an accompaniment of noisy expostulations, Carrissima turned to her brother—

"Lawrence," she said, "I am really in the most dreadful state of mind. I am beginning to wonder whether you could possibly have been right, after all."

"Thank you," answered Lawrence stiffly. "But, of course, a prophet is not without honour——"

"Yes, I know," Carrissima interrupted. "It's about Bridget."

"What has she been doing?" asked Phoebe.

"You remember she told us that to-day would be her birthday?"

"The most barefaced hint I ever heard in my life," said Lawrence.

"Well, I thought I would take her a small present——"

"A pity you can't hold yourself in a little more," was the answer.
"You must gush!"

"Anyhow," Carrissima continued quite humbly, "I went to Donaldson's—Phoebe, I saw the duckiest little opal brooch. I was half tempted——"

"For goodness' sake get along with the story!" cried Lawrence fretfully.

"I bought a card-case—silver," said Carrissima.

"Gun metal would have done just as well," suggested Lawrence.

"When I asked the man to engrave Bridget's initials on it," said Carrissima, "he knew what they were without being told. He knew her number in Golfney Place too!"

"Ah, then father had been there before you!" exclaimed Lawrence.

"Yes," answered Carrissima, "and he has taken her to Richmond to lunch!"

"What did I tell you?" said Lawrence.

"Oh, please don't tell me again," entreated Carrissima. "What is the use?"

"A pity you didn't think of all this," he persisted, "before you took the woman up. I knew what she was. I told Phoebe."

"What nonsense," said Carrissima. "As if any human being could have imagined she would dream of marrying father that night Mark told us he had met her again."

"Well," cried Lawrence in his most weighty tone, "we may see something when Mark comes back from Paris. Odd that he hasn't written to Phoebe once since he went away—his only sister! Mark may upset the apple cart yet. It's certain he was pretty far gone, and I don't suppose she cares whom she marries, as long as he has a decent income. It's true she would naturally prefer a husband who is not likely to live many years."

"Oh, Lawrence!" expostulated Phoebe. "How can you talk like that. He doesn't mean what he says, Carrissima."

"Indeed I do," he answered. "I am a man of the world."

"Still," said Carrissima, "you needn't be a man of the flesh and the devil!"

"Anyhow," returned Lawrence, "we shall see what happens when Mark comes back."

"One thing is certain," said Carrissima, "nothing on earth would induce me to live at home if father were to marry Bridget."

"As if you could live anywhere else. Where could you go?"

"I shouldn't stay there!" said Carrissima.

"The idea of a girl of your age setting up on her own is ridiculous," was the reply. "As bad as the other woman! You have made your bed and you will have to lie on it."

"Ah, well!" said Carrissima, "it won't be at Number 13, Grandison
Square."