Enter Bridget Part 36

"Certainly not," was the answer. "The whole mischief," he continued, facing his sister, "was brought about by the first visit you paid to Golfney Place."

"Oh well," said Carrissima, "there will scarcely be a question of my patronizing her in the future. You see, Mrs. Clynesworth will be a quite important personage."

"We have every reason to be thankful she isn't Mrs. Faversham,"

returned Lawrence. "For the rest, it's just the way of the world."

So he dismissed the topic, and a few minutes later Phoebe inquired whether Carrissima had seen anything of Mark during the last few days.

"He really looks ill," she insisted. "He was here yesterday, and I thought he had come to make an appointment to see the new carpet. He spoke about it the last time, but when I suggested we should go before you left England, he said he was afraid he should be too busy. I fancy he is bothered about Sir Wilford Scones."

Carrissima did not see him again before her departure, and she was absent with Colonel Faversham six weeks. As Lawrence had taken a cottage in the country for the benefit of Victor, Carrissima, on her return to Grandison Square, stood no chance of meeting Mark in Charteris Street. As a matter of fact, he did not cross her path again until after she came back from her usual round of country-house visits at the end of October, with the intention of settling down for what promised to prove a dreary winter.

Her former avocations had lost their zest; life seemed to have become flat, stale and unprofitable. She longed for some kind of change, although she knew not what. At Charteris Street, whither Phoebe had by this time returned, the only news of Mark was that he had spent six weeks mountain-climbing in Switzerland. Lawrence complained of his brother-in-law's neglect.

"Phoebe is his only sister," he said one afternoon, during the first week of November. "The least he might do is to come and see her now and then. I say nothing about myself."

"I have only seen Mark once for five minutes since he came back," added Phoebe.

"When was that?" asked Carrissima.

"Last week----"

"And," suggested Lawrence, "I don't imagine he would have taken the trouble then if he hadn't wanted you to do something for him."

"You see, Carrissima," Phoebe explained, "Dr. Bunbury's wife and daughter are coming on a visit to London for a few weeks. Mark has promised to play cicerone, and he is anxious I shall call and invite the Bunburys here. Of course I told him I should be quite pleased. By the bye," Phoebe added, "I met Sybil Clynesworth the other day. She said that Jimmy and his wife would soon be home."

"They are still living together," said Lawrence.

They had not returned to England since their wedding, and it seemed that Bridget had pa.s.sed entirely out of Carrissima's life, after occupying a considerable s.p.a.ce in it for many weeks. Whatever the future might prove concerning her influence over Jimmy, it certainly appeared that she had brought nothing but mischief upon the household in Grandison Square.

Colonel Faversham had never been quite the same man since that morning he went to Number 5, Golfney Place, and found that Bridget had departed. Signs of age had become suddenly visible; he devoted his life less to golf, and spent far more time at home--not an unmitigated advantage to his daughter.

As for Carrissima, she did her best to take a calm survey of the situation, but without being able to understand why Mark continued to sulk in his tent. If he really loved her, surely he would before now have admitted his own fault and made allowances for the momentary indiscretion which was provoked by Carrissima's knowledge of it.

As a matter of fact, Mark felt as deeply vexed with himself as with her. But for his own lamentable weakness, he might have proved more tolerant of Carrissima's shortcoming; the circ.u.mstance that his own withers were wrung, made a _rapprochement_ less likely. There were moments when he wished that he had taken a different line from the beginning; but having already held aloof from Grandison Square so long, it became increasingly difficult to venture near the house.

Carrissima, who had not seen his face for several months, met him with Mrs. Bunbury and her daughter in Regent Street, and promptly came to the conclusion that his younger companion might prove quite dangerously attractive. At least, she presented a striking contrast to Bridget, being very quietly dressed, with dark hair, large "saucer" eyes, and a general appearance of demureness.

Phoebe had, as Carrissima knew, formed an exceedingly favourable opinion of Mary Bunbury, who had dined with her mother and Mark in Charteris Street. Carrissima wondered that she had not been invited to meet them, and realized that a year ago she would have been the first person to whom Mark appealed to help in their entertainment. Instead of taking advantage of the present encounter in Regent Street to introduce her, he pa.s.sed on with a bow. His face did not wear a smile and Carrissima was left with the impression that she remained unforgiven. To tell the truth, his behaviour aroused rebellious feelings in her breast; because, after all, she was not the only or the original sinner.

So that each was going a separate way, Mark's (by no means disagreeable) leading him on innumerable expeditions with Mary Bunbury, when the G.o.d stepped out of the machine.

CHAPTER XXVII

'MRS. JIMMY'

Colonel Faversham set out one morning in November after prolonged hesitation. A year ago he would not have thought twice, but of late he had grown much more careful of himself. The day was misty and the air struck raw and cold. He made no protest when Carrissima suggested that he should wear a scarf, although after she had wound it around his neck he, somewhat irritably, rearranged it in order to expose his necktie.

"Bless me!" he exclaimed, with something of his former energy, "you seem to want to make me look like an infernal invalid. Thank goodness I haven't got to that yet by a long shot. Molly-coddling a man in this way!"

"I don't see much use in wearing a scarf if you tuck it down beneath your coat," said Carrissima.

"Who wants to wear one?" he demanded, pulling it off and flinging it on to the hall table. "I won't wear it. I won't be bothered and interfered with!"

He selected a walking-stick from the stand, but when Carrissima opened the door for him, returned to exchange it for an umbrella; at last, setting forth at a quarter to twelve, walking rather slowly in the direction of his club. As he made his way along Piccadilly Colonel Faversham came almost to a standstill. Good heavens! that must be Bridget coming towards him. He fixed his eye-gla.s.s and saw that he had not make a mistake; in fact, it was difficult to be mistaken. She was as becomingly dressed as ever, and carried an enormous m.u.f.f, with a great many of some small animals' tails depending from it.

Colonel Faversham's thoughts at once flew back to that last time he had seen her in Golfney Place, when he had insisted that she should name the date for their marriage--a week or two hence, as he had egregiously hoped! And she had seemed to promise that she would gratify him when he came the following morning, and he arrived with exuberant antic.i.p.ations only to find the bird flown! Everything stood out clearly in his mind, and now that she was within a few yards he wished he had not pa.s.sed Half Moon Street, so that he might have slipped down the turning in order to avoid a meeting.

Had he done so in all probability Bridget would have pursued him!

Quickening her pace she bore down upon the colonel with her right hand outstretched, while with the left she held the enormous m.u.f.f. He had no alternative; it seemed inevitable that he should meet her half-way.

Although he had always admired her, she had never appeared quite so enticing as this dull November morning; looking into his face with merry eyes, while yet the corners of her mouth were drawn down as if to express the penitence, which he knew that no one in the world could have been farther from feeling.

"Oh, Colonel Faversham, how delighted I am to see you again!" she cried, and the provoking part of it was that he could not avoid a sensation of pleasure on seeing her at closer quarters. He did not imagine for an instant that she wished to see him, although for the time her manner might carry conviction. "I have positively been longing to meet you," said Bridget.

"It is very kind to say so," muttered Colonel Faversham.

"And," she continued, with her eyes on his face, "how splendidly well you are looking!"

"Ah, you think I am?" he answered. "Well, thank Heaven, I feel pretty well. How long have you been in London?" he asked rather hastily, because no one could feel more anxious to omit any allusion to the painful past.

"Only a couple of days," said Bridget. "We had the loveliest time abroad, and the best of it was that I really knew my way about far better than Jimmy."

Well, Colonel Faversham, for his part, did not doubt that she knew her way about better than most people.

"Now, tell the truth!" she exclaimed, as they stood in the middle of the pavement, "don't you think you ought to feel immensely grateful to me?"

"Bless my soul, I had not thought of that!" he answered, with a laugh.

"Well, you can recognize the fact now it's pointed out to you. Admit you had a happy release, as they sometimes say in different circ.u.mstances."

"Now I have seen you again," said Colonel Faversham gallantly, "it becomes much more difficult than ever to believe anything of the sort."

"I hope," replied Bridget, "you mean to come and see me often. Jimmy will be delighted. We have taken the duckiest little furnished flat while we look about for a house of our own."

"You are not going to settle down in Upper Grosvenor Street?" suggested the colonel.

"Oh dear, no! We should never dream of disturbing Sybil, nor of living with her. You don't know what a good fellow Jimmy is! Now he has a wife to keep him up to the mark he will do the most wonderful and unexpected things. You will see! He is going to stand for Atlinghurst, and I a.s.sure you I intend to get him in. Don't you think I shall make an excellent canva.s.ser? Now, please, understand," she added, "I expect you to come and see me!"

"Where is the flat?" he inquired.

"Aberdeen Mansion," she answered. "Jimmy took it while we were abroad----"

"Without seeing it? Good gracious!" said Colonel Faversham. That was just like Jimmy--and Bridget.

"Oh dear, yes," she said. "We left it to an agent, and, really, nothing could have turned out better. It is only a few yards from Hyde Park Corner. Will you come and have lunch this morning? I know Jimmy will be at home--not that it matters if he isn't."