"Sybil," said Jimmy, "at last I've seen her!"

"And did she say she would come to-morrow?" asked his sister.

"Oh well, of course you must go there in the first place," he answered.

"Jimmy, what do you mean?" said Sybil, with an expression of bewilderment. "It is not in the least like Carrissima to be so ceremonious——"

"Who was talking about Carrissima?" cried Jimmy.

"I naturally thought you were."

"Not a bit of it," said Jimmy. "Bridget—Miss Rosser!"

"Rosser—Rosser," murmured Sybil, taxing her memory. "I fancy there used to be some people named Rosser at Crowborough when I stayed with Colonel Faversham so many years ago."

"You must go and see her to-morrow," urged Jimmy. "The address is Number 5, Golfney Place. There's the woman I should like to marry," added Jimmy, causing Sybil to jump out of her chair.

She pleaded tentatively, however, that she could not go the following afternoon, for the simple reason that she expected a visit from Carrissima, whose arrival she now eagerly awaited.

"My dear," she said, pecking at her visitor's cheeks, as she clung to her hand, "I've been positively longing to see you. How very well you are looking! Now pray sit down and tell me all about this Miss Rosser."

"So Jimmy has already been singing her praises," suggested Carrissima.

"Oh dear, he simply took my breath away," said Sybil. "You would never believe it! He actually told me he should like to marry her! Did ever you hear such a thing?"

"He never loved who loved not at first sight," cried Carrissima, with a laugh.

"Of course, my dear, Jimmy was only joking," said Sybil.

"I scarcely imagined he had made up his mind so rapidly," answered Carrissima, "although Bridget is obviously quite irresistible. What an admirable solution! How I wish it might come to pass!"

"Oh, but, Carrissima!"

"It's no use," she said. "Self-preservation is the first law of nature, and if she doesn't marry Jimmy she will very likely marry my father."

"Carrissima!" cried Sybil in the tone of one severely shocked.

"I am perfectly serious," was the reply.

"But a man of the colonel's age! And what a horrid—horrid person she must be!"

"Oh dear, no," said Carrissima. "You will see what she is. If only
Jimmy effects a diversion I shall feel grateful as long as I live."

The net result of the interview with Carrissima was that Sybil did an extremely unusual thing. Although Jimmy strongly urged her to go to Golfney Place, she positively refused to gratify him.

"Jimmy, I am very, very sorry," she insisted, "but I couldn't possibly go. Miss Rosser really doesn't seem to be quite respectable."

"That generally signifies something rather piquant, you know," said Jimmy in his equable way. "Just think of the things and the people we do respect—in your delightful sense. If we could only see through their skins; though of course they're far too thick. Anyhow, if you won't go now, you will later on, and meantime," he added, "you throw me on my own resources."

The consequence of Sybil's refusal was that Jimmy passed the end of Golfney Place several times a day and presently met with a reward. It was about half-past eleven one sunny morning that he saw Bridget come forth from her door, and without a glance in his direction, turn towards the further end of the street. Quickening his pace, he at once set out in pursuit. Walking behind her, he saw the light on her chestnut-coloured hair, saw that she knew (rare accomplishment) how to walk, and a few moments later, still a foot or two in the rear, he exclaimed—

"Good-morning, Miss Rosser."

"Oh, good-morning, Mr. Clynesworth," she answered, without stopping.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To my dressmaker's in Dover Street!"

"May I go with you——"

"That sounds," cried Bridget gaily, "like the beginning of a nursery rhyme."

"There never was a prettier maid," he answered, walking by her side.

"I suppose you know a great many," she suggested.

"They are all cast into oblivion——"

"Is it your experience," said Bridget, turning to look into his face, "that they appreciate this—this sort of thing?"

"Don't you?" asked Jimmy.

"I rather prefer being spoken to as if I were a reasonable being!"

"I was hoping you were not one," he said. "The spring is too intoxicating. Everything," he continued, as they turned with one consent from Knightsbridge into the park, "seems unaccustomed, fresh, young, and you the most of all. Hang being reasonable! Suggest something mad and let us do it together. But," he cried, abruptly changing his tone, "what should you like me to talk about?"

"I suppose your favourite topic is yourself," she said. "Tell me what you do—if ever you do anything."

"I don't," he replied. "I am what is called a spoilt child of fortune."

"You like being spoilt?"

"It depends on the spoiler. Sometimes I hate it."

"Why?" asked Bridget.

"Oh well," he said, as they walked by the side of Rotten Row, and Jimmy occasionally lifted his straw hat to some passer-by who did not fail to stare at his companion, "if we have to be serious, one has moments of inspiration and pines for better things."

"Aren't they within your reach?"

"Your most ardent socialist," said Jimmy, "won't dream of pooling his money till the millennium. What would be the use of my setting to work and cutting out some poor devil who wants it?"

"Mightn't you go into parliament?" suggested Bridget.

"Original minds there are at a discount."

"Is your mind original?"

"An independent member is certain to be shunted at the first opportunity," said Jimmy. "They want men who think in droves."

"There's the army," returned Bridget. "At least you might learn how to defend your country."

"Yes, I have done that," he said, as they reached Hyde Park Corner. "I used to be in the —th Hussars. Unfortunately, I got a rather bad sunstroke in India. That may account for any small eccentricity you notice."

"I was wondering," answered Bridget.

"As I had to come home," he explained, "and to keep quiet for I don't know how long, I sold out. Since then I've raised a troop of yeomanry at Atlinghurst. I have a place there, you know."

"Surely you might find a useful occupation in its management!"

"I did," said Jimmy, "until it was taken away."

"How?" asked Bridget.

"Simply because of one of the prettiest girls you have ever seen," he answered, bringing Bridget's eyes again to his face.

"I understand," she murmured.

"I'm certain you don't," he said, with a laugh. "Erica Danvers. She got herself engaged to a man who used to be at Trinity with me. The misfortune was that he had six brothers older than himself. Well, Erica came to me one day and declared she had hit on a capital plan. Why shouldn't I make Bolsover my steward, pay him a living wage, and all the rest of it. He and Erica have twins," added Jimmy.

Bridget walked a few yards along Piccadilly in silence.

"You have been extraordinarily unfortunate," she said rather gravely, "although you ought to be pitied rather than blamed."

"Not since I met you the other afternoon. Do you see much of old
Faversham?" he asked, for the colonel's admiration had been manifest at
Grandison Square.

"He has always been very kind to me," she faltered.

"Surely you meet with kindness everywhere," said Jimmy.

"Except from Fate!" answered Bridget, with a sigh.

"Wait and see!" he exclaimed. "The better part of life is before you."

"Are you by way of telling my fortune?" asked Bridget.

"I hope to be allowed to influence it," said Jimmy, as she stopped at the corner of Dover Street. "You will let me come and see you," he urged, taking her hand.

"You said your sister was coming!" Bridget reminded him.

"Yes," he said.

"You must ask her to bring you."