"Don"t you think it looks rather like it?" answered Jimmy, with an ingratiating smile. "I hope your knee is better, colonel."
"Quite all right," said Colonel Faversham, with a scowl. "Never anything the matter with it. I am never ill. There isn"t a sounder man in London."
"Oh well, that"s a large order," answered Jimmy. "Still, at your age I don"t suppose there is."
Colonel Faversham looked as if he would like to annihilate Jimmy, who was struggling to put David Rosser"s novel into his jacket pocket.
Then he said "good-bye" to Bridget, adding coolly--
"I shall bring back the book in a day or two."
With a nod to the colonel he left the room, whereupon Faversham lowered himself carefully into a chair.
"Has Jimmy often been here?" he demanded.
"Oh dear, no," she answered. "This is the first visit."
"Like his impudence! It won"t be the last."
"I hope not," murmured Bridget, standing by the side of his chair.
"How many times have you met him since that afternoon at my house?"
asked Colonel Faversham.
"Only once besides to-day!"
"He took that book," was the answer, "simply for the sake of bringing it back! I hate anything underhanded."
"But he isn"t!" Bridget insisted. "He said that was his reason."
"Barefaced!" shouted the colonel. "The fact is Jimmy Clynesworth has never been the same since his sunstroke. Bridget," he added, "I should like to keep you entirely to myself. I should like----"
What his precise desire might be Bridget was not destined on the present occasion to hear. He suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence, gazing at her with horror and alarm in his face. Covering hers, she had incontinently broken down, and her body shook with the violence of her sobs. Colonel Faversham found his feet so hastily that he could not suppress an exclamation as he stooped to rub his knee. He knew neither what to say nor how to act.
"What"s the matter with you?" he demanded. "Tell me what it is. Only let me know. What more can a man ask?"
"Oh, it is nothing," said Bridget amidst her tears. "Only that I am the most miserable woman in the world."
Although he did his best, he could not succeed in tranquilizing her, and finally went away, leaving her in the most despondent mood. Alone in his smoking-room the same evening, Colonel Faversham did his utmost to arrive at some explanation of Bridget"s pa.s.sionate outburst of grief.
Could it be possible she was distressed at the sight of his disapproval. He ought to keep a firmer rein on his temper! He must remember that Bridget was a delicate girl, and treat her with the kindness she deserved.
This more satisfactory explanation, however, did not prove entirely convincing. She might be unhappy because she repented of her promise; well, in any event he intended to keep her to it! She could scarcely think of breaking her engagement on Jimmy"s account! She had spoilt herself for that. Colonel Faversham, as she must know, was not the man to stand silently by while she transferred herself to a younger aspirant. She had sense enough to understand, too, that Jimmy had only to hear of the existing engagement to retire from the compet.i.tion.
As a matter of fact, Jimmy had no thought of drawing back. The following Sunday morning the sun seemed to shine more brightly than usual, and Bridget stood at one of the windows of her sitting-room, looking out at the few pa.s.sers-by on their way to the white-fronted church farther along the street. Its bell was ringing cheerfully.
Until the last few years she had always lived in the country, and now her thoughts flew back to earlier days, and she pictured the fields and hedgerows, remembering the places where she used to find daffodils and primroses and violets. A longing seemed to seize upon her as the church bells left off ringing, and then she heard a hooter, and saw a dark-red motor-car stop at the door, with a chauffeur driving and Jimmy, with a light-brown fur rug over his knees, sitting alone behind.
"A magnificent morning!" he cried, entering her sitting-room a few moments later. "I couldn"t resist the temptation, and to tell you the truth, I didn"t try very hard. I hope you"ll let me take you for a spin into the country."
"Of course it would be lovely!" said Bridget.
"Then I shall give you five minutes to get ready," answered Jimmy.
"I really mustn"t," she insisted.
"Why not?" he demanded. "Aren"t you as free as the larks?"
Bridget sighed as she stood looking out at the car in the street below.
"Come," urged Jimmy. "Let me take you to hear them sing!"
"Where?" she faltered.
"Oh, you must give me carte-blanche!"
"Suppose I were reckless enough!" said Bridget.
"We would go to the farthest and most secluded corner of the earth where the sun always shines, but never too fiercely."
"Then," she cried more brightly, "English wouldn"t be spoken."
"You and I would understand each other," said Jimmy. "That is all I care for."
"There would be the coming back," she suggested.
"Not necessarily," he replied, and Bridget seemed to start as if some fresh idea had suddenly occurred to her mind. "Anyhow, we needn"t think of returning before we set out," he continued.
"I mustn"t," she repeated.
"But, indeed, you must."
"Mr. Clynesworth----"
"What," he asked, "is the matter with "Jimmy"?"
"I fancy he is very--very foolish," said Bridget. "I should have to get back by three o"clock," she added.
"Well, half a loaf is better than no bread," he returned.
"You promise faithfully I shall be home by three!"
"Anything in the world so that you come," said Jimmy.
She went to get ready, and presently returned wearing a small hat which became her as well as the wide-brimmed one in which he had seen her the other morning. She carried a heavy cloak over her arm, and seemed to find it difficult to b.u.t.ton her gloves. Finally she held out her hand to Jimmy, who lingered over the process; but by and by they went down-stairs together, out into the street, and he put her into the car, tucking the fur rug about her before taking his seat by her side.
Colonel Faversham was at church with Carrissima, looking forward during the Lessons to the afternoon, when he intended to reach Golfney Place by half-past three.