"What about him?" asked Carrissima, at once on her guard.
"The fact is," Bridget explained, "I ought to have drawn in and lived on my hundred pounds a year, or whatever it was, only I hadn"t got it in me. I formed a different plan. I thought I would take London by storm--no less! I had been flattered and spoiled in Paris, and goodness knows what ridiculous ideas I came away with. Well, I was left alone with no one to speak to till I recognized Mark at the Old Masters", and dropped my purse so that he might pick it up and give me an excuse to claim acquaintance. They say that open confession is good for the soul! Oh dear, mine ought to be in such splendid condition."
"Why should you inflict the penance on yourself to-day?" suggested Carrissima.
"I liked Mark Driver," said Bridget, "and I thought he liked me--in a rather different way. Until he went to Yorkshire, I believed he would ask me to marry him. I had tried to make him! After his return, that evening he took me to Belloni"s, I tried my hardest and wondered why I failed till I saw you."
"I don"t see what I can possibly have to do with it," murmured Carrissima.
"Oh, you were very discreet--very clever! But it wasn"t long before I saw you would give your heart for Mark----"
"You have not the least right to say that!" exclaimed Carrissima.
"Of course I haven"t," Bridget admitted. "I am taking the most abominable liberty. Well, I was going to tell you that when Colonel Faversham asked me to marry him, I temporized until Mark"s return from Paris; then I knew for certain there was nothing to be hoped for from him. I am giving myself away pretty liberally," said Bridget, "but this is what I want to make you understand. Though I deliberately devoted myself to captivate Mark, he never yielded--till just that once! Odd, that I who feel absolutely indifferent about him, should read his character so much more correctly than you who love him. Oh, please," entreated Bridget, "don"t look so fierce, because if I had not been certain, there would have been no object in asking you to come here this morning."
"I cannot see one in--in any case!" said Carrissima.
"Oh, I hope there is," answered Bridget. "I know it sounds a wee bit inconsistent, because, of course, Mark was wrong, and at the time I felt immensely angry with him. But he wasn"t a thousandth part so wrong as you imagined, and, Carrissima! there are very few men of his age whom you or I couldn"t tempt if we gave our minds to it."
"I am not in the least likely to make the experiment," exclaimed Carrissima.
"No, but, you see, I did! It"s true nothing could have been further from my thoughts or my wishes on the afternoon you dropped the roses.
But how was Mark to know that? And at other times I had done my very best to lead him on, and I failed only because of you! Imagine what it meant when he heard from Jimmy that the woman he loved, whom he had intended to ask to be his wife----"
"That is your own imagination!" cried Carrissima. "You cannot possibly have any ground for believing such a thing!"
"Anyhow, I have his own a.s.surance; besides, he told Jimmy, if my word is not enough. You told Sybil that Mark had lied to you, and acted goodness knows how horridly concerning me, and the truth was he had merely lost his head for a single instant, and what was it after all?
Carrissima, I have taken myself to pieces just to convince you I am sincere for once in a way! I see the possibility of danger ahead . . .
danger that Mark is too much hurt to come forward again, and what a pity! Take my advice and don"t let things rest. What does it matter who eats humble pie if you"re going to dine together for the remainder of your lives? Do something at once! Write to him--send for him as I sent for you. I hoped I might make you believe he loves you, and that then you might live happily ever after!"
CHAPTER XXVI
LAWRENCE SUMS IT UP
The ensuing few hours proved the most restless of Carrissima"s life.
At luncheon she could scarcely concentrate her thoughts sufficiently to listen to the explanation of Colonel Faversham"s plans for the forthcoming tour abroad, and afterwards she retired to her own room, where she made a valiant attempt to persuade herself that as the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain.
It required, however, considerable courage to follow Bridget"s advice and send Mark a letter, and when at last she succeeded in silencing her doubts, she scarcely knew what to say to him. Hitherto, in all her dealings with Mark, she had felt uncertain (to say the least) about his regard. Now, if Bridget were to be credited, there remained no room for disbelief. Mark loved her! In spite of that compromising situation which she had witnessed, he loved her.
If this were the case, nothing else seemed to be of any importance.
Carrissima was prepared to condone an offence, the importance of which, she supposed, she had exaggerated; and perhaps if she were to make herself more abject, he would grasp the olive branch. As Bridget suggested, what did it matter so that they came together at last?
Granting his love, as there could be no doubt about her own, it would be sheer foolishness to allow the present unfortunate estrangement to continue.
So she took a pen presently, and after profound consideration succeeded in writing the few necessary words--
"MY DEAR MARK,
"Will you be magnanimous and spare me a few minutes after dinner this evening?
"Yours very sincerely,
"CARRISSIMA."
The mountain in labour having brought forth a mouse, Carrissima put on her hat and set out, intending personally to post the letter. There would be ample time. He would receive it before seven o"clock, and, it was to be hoped, reach Grandison Square soon after nine. She determined to be on the watch for his arrival, in order to take him to some unoccupied room. Well, what then? she wondered, as she drew near the pillar-box. What could she do but repeat the a.s.surance already given that she had never really believed what she told Sybil Clynesworth--or at the worst only for a few seconds.
Bridget, presumably, expected her to employ some feminine wiles to bring Mark to a more amenable condition, but there Carrissima drew the line. Within reach of the pillar-box, she took the letter in both hands, tore it into a dozen pieces and scattered them to the winds.
She would not, after all, make any definite appointment. If Mark loved her he was not likely to change, and everything must eventually come right; if he did not, why, in that case she could not do aught to improve the existing condition of things, even if she would. Time might, una.s.sisted, enable him to judge her more leniently. If she did not meet him before she left England, he could scarcely fail, sooner or later, to cross her path after her return. In the meantime, rather miserably, she began her preparations; and, as it happened, she was to depart two days after Bridget"s marriage.
Although this had been arranged to take place very quietly at the church which Sybil so regularly attended, a good many of Jimmy"s friends seemed to hear of the affair. Small as the wedding-party was (although it included the Misses Dobson), a large congregation gathered together. Mark was present, at the rear of the church; but although Carrissima hesitated, she conquered her curiosity and stayed away.
Going to Charteris Street the same afternoon, she found Lawrence in a mood to moralize.
"Well," he remarked, "they are a lively pair, Jimmy and this wife of his!"
"Yes, they will at least be that," returned Carrissima. "After all, I suppose it"s something to the good, and they"re certain to get along splendidly together."
"They will flourish like the green bay tree," exclaimed Lawrence.
"Oh, don"t be a Pharisee!" said Carrissima.
"I am a man of common-sense," he protested. "We all know Jimmy! The only astonishing thing is that he was not too experienced a bird to be so easily caught."
"Perhaps he was willing to meet his fate," suggested Phoebe.
"Not a doubt about it," said her husband. "So complete was his beguilement."
"You entirely ignore the possibility that Bridget may be sincerely fond of him," said Carrissima.
"Just as she was fond first of Mark, then of father," retorted Lawrence. "You must admit that she angled for each in turn, and that she finally chose the richest."
"Oh dear, yes," said Carrissima. "What is more, she would make the same admission herself."
"A little barefaced," remarked Phoebe.
"Anyhow," Carrissima insisted, "I believe that Bridget simply fell in love with Jimmy, and that was why she altered her course."
"Rotten sentimentality!" exclaimed Lawrence. "The curse of the age.
Oh, there"s no doubt she was clever. She played her cards so well that she succeeded in deceiving the princ.i.p.al looker-on as well as her victim."
"Victim or not," said Carrissima, "I positively can"t feel sorry for Jimmy."
"Neither can I," cried Lawrence. "I always find it difficult to pity a fool. Anyhow, I hope you have done with her," he added.
"Lawrence would not let me send Jimmy a present," said Phoebe.