Enter Bridget Part 9

"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."

CHAPTER VIII

A PROPOSAL

"Has Colonel Faversham returned?" asked Carrissima when Knight opened the door.

"The colonel is in the smoking-room," was the answer, and she went there at once. He was leaning back in an easy-chair, with his feet on the fender, a cigar between his lips, and an unusually benignant expression on his face.

"Well, Carrissima," he inquired amicably, "where have you sprung from?"

"I went to Charteris Street," she returned. "What have you been doing since eleven?"

"What have I been doing?" said Colonel Faversham, rubbing his palms violently together. "Well, now, to tell you the truth, I've been out on the spree! Such a glorious day! I couldn't resist the temptation.

A man at the club--I don't think you know him--Comberbatch--asked me to share a taxi and run down to Richmond to lunch. Delightful in the park. And the view from the Terrace! It made me long to go on the river again."

"Why--why didn't you?" Carrissima faltered.

"Come, come, what are you dreaming of?" said Colonel Faversham, with one of his boisterous laughs. "Picture my rowing in these clothes: a frock coat!"

"Oh well," she returned, "I scarcely imagined you would row yourself."

"Not row myself!" he exclaimed. "Why shouldn't I, in the name of goodness? Let me tell you I can pull a good oar still. If only I had had my flannels! You seem to think I'm fit for nothing."

Colonel Faversham astonished Carrissima by rising from his chair and taking off his coat. Removing the links from his s.h.i.+rt-cuff, he solemnly turned back the sleeve, then clenching his fist, slowly raised his forearm, looking the while so red in the face that she grew quite alarmed.

"Feel that!" he said.

"I will take your word for it----"

"Kindly do as I ask you," he insisted, with his arm still bent. "I can't stand like this all day."

Carrissima accordingly felt his biceps with her thumb and forefinger.

"As hard as wood," she said.

"Ah!" he answered, with a smile of relief and satisfaction, as he turned down his s.h.i.+rtsleeve again; "I thought that would astonish you.

Not row myself!"

He was obviously in the highest spirits, and indeed he was still under the influence of the intoxicating pleasures of the earlier part of the day. Not that this had pa.s.sed without some drawbacks. The present which he had bought at Donaldson's had been the cause of considerable cogitation. He was hampered by the fear that Bridget might regard what he would like to bestow upon her as too significant, and in the end had selected a handsome and costly crocodile-hide dressing-bag. It would prove suitable for her honeymoon, and it was with not a little regret that he felt bound to order the initials "B. R." to be engraved on the gold stoppers of the bottles, instead of "B. F." The alteration could, however, no doubt be made in due season.

Not wis.h.i.+ng to open Carrissima's eyes unnecessarily soon, Colonel Faversham gave instructions for the bag to be sent to Number 5, Golfney Place, before half-past ten on Wednesday morning, and he felt deeply disappointed when Bridget gently but firmly refused to accept it.

Incongruously enough, she was persuaded nevertheless to accompany him to Richmond, and the drive at close quarters in the taxi-cab, the _tete-a-tete_ meal, the bottle of champagne which Bridget scarcely tasted, had, collectively and separately, inflamed Colonel Faversham to the sticking-point. When they reached Golfney Place at half-past five, another disappointment lay in store for him, inasmuch as she refused to allow him to enter the house--she felt too tired after the drive! He could come to-morrow, and, meantime, he might send for the dressing-bag.

She could be so tantalizing now and then, that it was easy to believe she was scoffing at him. During the day she had more than once dragged Mark's name into the conversation, and even Carrissima did not feel more curious respecting their precise relations.h.i.+p than her father.

Notwithstanding his anxiety concerning the critic on his hearth, and the more exacerbating one in Charteris Street, Colonel Faversham had reached the end of his tether. This delightful girl, with her charming ingenuousness, her high spirits, might actually become his wife in the course of a few months.

A few months! She might be prevailed upon to marry him within the next few weeks. What cause could there possibly be for delay? Surely he was ent.i.tled to please himself! Absurd to imagine that a man of his age must regulate his life to please a slip of a girl like Carrissima, or a solemn young puritan like Lawrence!

When Colonel Faversham arrived at Golfney Place on Thursday morning, Bridget was wearing a new frock; quite light, almost white, in fact, and setting off her slender figure to the most admirable advantage.

How many new frocks he had seen her wearing, Colonel Faversham found it difficult to count. The crocodile-hide dressing-bag stood ominously on the table, and, by way of a greeting, she reminded him that he had been asked to send for it.

"Confound the bag!" he retorted. "If you won't keep the thing, pitch it in the dusthole. Bridget," he continued, standing close by her side, "I want you to accept all I have in the world and myself into the bargain. I am not going to blow my own trumpet. Thank goodness I was never that sort of man! I wish I were a boy just because you're a girl, but if you'll take me as I am, you'll make me the happiest man in the world, and I'll do my best to see you never regret it."