Enter Bridget Part 31

"Well," said Jimmy, "Carrissima insists that she saw you holding Bridget in your arms--in the act of kissing her, to put it plainly."

This was a trying moment for Mark Driver. His face was crimson, and he would have given a great deal to be able to deny the too soft impeachment. As this was impossible, he lost his temper with Carrissima. Egoism was probably the prime factor in his present mood.

He thought less of the excuse he had provided than of the painful circ.u.mstance that he had been cutting such a sorry figure in her eyes.

While he flattered himself that she regarded him as a kind of king who could do no wrong, she had, in truth, looked upon him as a pretty contemptible scoundrel. It seemed an additional offence that she should have dissembled her opinion, so that when he, being beguiled, asked her to marry him, she might coolly send him about his business.

A suspicion of something, perhaps, resembling insincerity in his own conduct made him only more intolerant of hers. He saw now how much better it would have been, instead of trusting for immunity to her ignorance, to have taken his courage in his hands and made a clean breast of what, after all, was only a venial offence. A counsel of perfection, no doubt, but Mark wished that he had followed it.

He was deeply wounded in the most sensitive part, but while admitting his weakness in yielding to a commonplace temptation, he could make no excuse for Carrissima's scandalous libel. An hour ago, she had been the only woman in the world for him; as to Bridget--well, the old Adam had cropped out for an instant. To account for his vulnerability one must embark on a study of the theory of Evolution! If he had been actually affianced to Carrissima, the case would, no doubt, have been more serious, although even then there could be no justification for her shameful accusation. But he was not affianced to her, and, in the face of what he had just heard, he never wished to be.

Jimmy saw that Mark was deeply moved, and made a shrewd guess at the cause. In a friendly way, he walked round the writing-table, and standing by the side of the chair, rested a hand on the other's shoulder.

"I shouldn't take it too seriously," he said. "You'll generally find there's a way out somehow. You know I told you, to begin with, that I knew it was an infernal lie!"

"But--you see--it wasn't," answered Mark.

"I don't understand," said Jimmy, withdrawing his hand.

"It's perfectly true," muttered Mark, moistening his lips, "that Carrissima came to Golfney Place and saw me----"

"Saw you--saw you with Bridget in your arms! Good Lord!" exclaimed Jimmy, gazing down at Mark's bowed head.

Rising from his chair, Mark gripped one lapelle of his frock coat in each hand as he paced the small room.

"She was talking about her earlier days at Crowborough," he said, with considerable embarra.s.sment. "She had been there that morning. She seemed upset, and I--well, I lost my head for the moment. I hadn't seen her since the day after my return from Paris. What I told Carrissima was absolutely true. The moment she entered Bridget's room I saw what a fool I had been. Of course, we both made the mistake of imagining Carrissima had seen nothing. But anyhow--whatever she saw, to think she could jump to such a conclusion!"

"Not very surprising, after all," said Jimmy quietly. "I fancy that I should have thought the same. You must admit the situation appeared a little compromising."

"You wouldn't say that if you had seen Bridget later on," answered Mark.

"Look here, old fellow," said Jimmy, "you and I have known each other a good many years. You remember when we used to fight like billy-oh at Brighton."

"I dare say you feel rather as if you would like to punch my head now,"

returned Mark.

"H'm, well--I tell you frankly," said Jimmy. "This jaw we're having may influence my whole life."

"It has already influenced mine," cried Mark.

"How's that?" demanded Jimmy.

"I have been hoping to marry Carrissima--to put it plainly. You've shown what she thinks of me."

"Surely," said Jimmy, "she had more than a little excuse!"

"My dear chap," replied Mark, "you're not such a prig that you can't understand the possibility of a man's losing his head about a pretty woman."

"Why, no," said Jimmy; "but I wish to goodness you had not chosen that particular one."

"If I had imagined Carrissima saw us, I should have explained things at once," added Mark.

"The question is," suggested Jimmy, "whether your explanation would have sounded quite convincing."

"Good Lord!" said Mark, "you speak as if you were not convinced!"

"Of one thing--yes," was the answer. "I can understand a fellow's kissing a pretty woman--or a dozen if it comes to that, but I know you're not the man to go where you're not certain you're wanted."

Now Mark hesitated, thinking that he had humiliated himself almost enough. Seeing, however, that Jimmy was hanging upon his answer, he felt compelled to belittle himself to the uttermost rather than allow the slightest obstacle to remain between Bridget and this man who appointed himself her champion.

"The truth is," said Mark, "I--well, I made a mistake."

"About Bridget?" demanded Jimmy eagerly.

"Yes," answered Mark. "I had no shadow of an excuse. From first to last she had never given me the remotest reason. It was simply my own egregious stupidity. To put it honestly, I acted like a bounder. I'm immensely sorry, Jimmy."

Jimmy could not help feeling sore about it. For one thing, he regretted the necessity to admit to Sybil that the false report contained that one word of truth. Worse than this! an indignity had been put on Bridget by Mark Driver, who seemed the last man in the world to inflict it. Jimmy, however, realized that one of her most potent charms was a delectable, seductive ingenuousness and irresponsibility, which might, perhaps, on occasion prove a little misleading to unregenerate man. Nevertheless, he felt sore as he left Weymouth Street.

CHAPTER XXIII

HAVING IT OUT

"Mr. Driver," announced Knight at half-past three that Monday afternoon.

Carrissima at once came to the conclusion that she had never seen him look so solemn--or quite so handsome, although she wished that he had stayed away.

"How are you, Mark?" she said, mustering a smile, however, as she held out her hand.

"I have come rather early," he answered, and Carrissima noticed that he barely touched her finger tips.

"Won't you sit down?" she suggested, returning to her own chair.

"So that I might make certain of finding you alone," continued Mark, still standing in the middle of the room.

"Well, your object is attained," she cried brightly. "Father is not at home, and I am not expecting any visitors."

"I thought the best plan," he said, "was to have it out without any waste of time."

"Oh dear!" murmured Carrissima. "Have what out?"

"I am going to speak quite plainly----"

"Why in the world shouldn't you?"

"I want to know," said Mark, "why you--of all people--told Sybil Clynesworth--well, what you did tell her?"

"What did I?" asked Carrissima.