Enter Bridget Part 10

"I shan't pretend that you've taken me entirely by surprise," said Bridget.

"Surprise!" exclaimed Colonel Faversham. "No one could have shown much more plainly what he wanted. There's not much s.h.i.+lly-shally about me.

For that matter, I made up my mind long ago----"

"Oh, but you really haven't known me very long," she suggested. "It can't be more than a month since Mark went to Paris."

"I wish," said the colonel, "he had gone to Hades!"

"I know you are horridly jealous," she continued, "because you always change the subject when I mention his name. I like Mark Driver immensely!"

"Anyhow, I want to hear you say you like me better," said Colonel Faversham.

She stood looking at him critically--and very tantalizingly--with her head slightly on one side; and while he devoured her with his eyes, Bridget slowly took a chair.

"But why should you try to make me say what isn't true?" she demanded.

"I hope it would be," urged Colonel Faversham.

"I am not at all certain," she said quietly. "It's a vastly important question. It requires time for consideration."

"How long, for goodness' sake?"

"I really couldn't possibly tell you offhand. I shouldn't care to bind myself."

"I am desperately impatient to bind you, though," answered Colonel Faversham. "I would see to it we had a good time. There's no wish of yours that shouldn't be gratified--in reason, you know."

"Haven't you discovered by this time how unreasonable I am?" she asked.

"Bridget, come now, be a good girl!" he murmured.

"That shows how little you know me," she returned, "because I'm not in the least good."

"Well, well, call yourself what you please! Only have a little love for me, and I don't care what the devil you are!" exclaimed Colonel Faversham, and at that moment he meant precisely what he said.

"I am not certain I have," she cried, with a laugh. "You see that whatever I may be I am candid. I don't think I have a particle of what I suppose you mean by 'love' for any living being. Perhaps there's something wanting in my const.i.tution. I don't believe I shall ever be capable of 'loving' anybody as long as I live."

"Good gracious," was the answer, "don't tantalize me. Why do you keep me on tenterhooks? Say you will marry me, and we'll leave everything else."

"I can't say so this morning," she insisted. "I can say that I won't if you like."

"For heaven's sake, don't do that!" Colonel Faversham quite humbly entreated.

"Then please don't bother me for an answer," she said, and, with all her lightness, he realized that she had a will of her own. His only consolation was that, if her word could be accepted, she had not given her heart to Mark or any one else. Whether she was to be believed or not, however, his infatuation remained unaffected. He had reached a condition in which he longed for possession upon any terms whatsoever, but since it was obvious that she did not intend to pledge herself this morning, there was no help for it! He must be as little discontented as possible to leave the question open for the present.

"Well, then," he suggested, "if I manage to bottle up my feelings for a week or so, will you try to think favourably of me in the meantime?"

"Why, yes, of course I will," she answered. "But it must be distinctly understood. I am as free as the wind! I have not promised anything."

Beyond this she could not be prevailed upon to go, but before he left Golfney Place, she gratified him by consenting to keep the dressing-bag. She thanked him, indeed, very charmingly; so that, notwithstanding his rebuff, Colonel Faversham left the house disappointed, it is true, but even more her slave than ever.

CHAPTER IX

MARK RETURNS

It was one afternoon towards the end of April, and Carrissima congratulated herself that she had made up her mind to spend it indoors, although the trees in the parks were in fresh green leaf, and London was looking its brightest and best. There had been, however, a few showers at luncheon-time, and Colonel Faversham had set out through one afterwards "to his club."

Carrissima, of course, knew very well that he was bound for Golfney Place, and for her own part, she determined to stay at home until tea-time, with the consequence that she saw Mark about half-past four.

He entered the room looking as handsome, as alert and energetic as ever; a man, you felt certain, who would succeed in making his way in the world, as indeed he fully intended to do.

"When did you get back?" asked Carrissima, remembering that her welcome must not be too cordial.

"Late yesterday afternoon," he answered.

"Have you had a good time?"

"Oh, ripping!" he continued. "Old Wentworth knows his Paris, and we didn't waste many hours."

Six months ago it would not have been in the least surprising that he should pay her a visit directly he returned, but now she was wondering whether he had already seen Bridget Rosser.

"You're not staying in Charteris Street?" she asked.

"Not a bit of it. I'm at Duffield's Hotel again for the present. But I thought I ought to give Phoebe a look up last night. I went there after dinner. She tells me you have seen Bridget?" said Mark, leaning forward rather eagerly in his chair.

"Oh yes, it seemed quite the natural thing to do," answered Carrissima, unable to repress a sigh as she remembered the train of circ.u.mstances which had followed her visit to Golfney Place.

"That sounds as if you wish you hadn't done it!" he suggested.

"Have you seen her yet?" asked Carrissima, perceiving her opportunity.

"No," said Mark; "but I've listened to a good deal about her. Lawrence is great on the subject. By Jove! according to him she might be the complete adventuress. He insists she has been trying her hand on the colonel--not without success!"

"Does the suggestion strike you as being inconceivable?" demanded Carrissima.

"Oh well, you forget that I have been away for more than a month. I have no means of forming an opinion----"

"Your previous experiences!" said Carrissima; and Mark stared at the carpet.

His previous experiences of Bridget had, no doubt, proved entirely agreeable. During Carrissima's absence from London in the weeks after Christmas, when he had no occupation for his idle hands, he had certainly spent many enjoyable hours at Number 5, Golfney Place, and it had been necessary on more than one occasion to remind himself that discretion was the better part of valour.

If it had not been for Carrissima, the temptation to meet Bridget's apparently "coming-on disposition" half way would have become more acute, and without any idea of a closer relations.h.i.+p, he might perchance have gone farther over night than he would have thought desirable the next morning.

Without being a c.o.xcomb, Mark Driver, during those evening interviews, had been inclined to think that this was precisely what Bridget desired; but then again, he reasoned himself into the opinion that she must be entirely innocent of any such idea, which was due, rather, to his own less well-ordered imagination. And, besides, there was Carrissima!

"Goodness knows," he answered at last. "I came here this afternoon to check Lawrence's opinion by your own."