Enter Bridget Part 7

"On Tuesday," said Phoebe.

"How old will he be?"

"Two," returned his delighted mother, and Bridget leaned back in her chair with a profound sigh.

"Oh dear," she murmured, "and I shall actually be twenty-three on Wednesday!"

"Now what are you going to do to celebrate the occasion?" demanded Colonel Faversham.

"Let me see," said Bridget; "I shall breakfast alone, have lunch alone, tea alone and dinner in the same delightful company. How different it used to be when we lived at Crowborough! The day was a kind of festival. Before I was grown up we always had a primrose party."

Carrissima could not refrain from looking at her sympathetically.

Although her lips were smiling, her eyes seemed not a little pitiful.

It was impossible not to like the girl, and, moreover, if it were granted that she was (as Lawrence insisted) manoeuvring for Colonel Faversham, it seemed to follow that there must be less fear for Mark!

Perhaps, in some occult, subconscious way, this unbidden idea may have quickened Carrissima's regard, and in any case she deprecated the lonely birthday, forming a small benevolent scheme of her own for its celebration. In the first place, she determined to send Bridget a present, and then she would go to Golfney Place during the afternoon and take her out to tea. A modest programme, but still better than nothing.

On Tuesday afternoon Carrissima was, naturally, bound to Phoebe and Victor, but during the morning she made her way to Donaldson's, the jeweller's, in Old Bond Street, where her family had dealt for many years. Lawrence went there for presents for his wife; Colonel Faversham (who, to do him justice, was generous in this respect) never went anywhere else at Christmas time or on Carrissima's birthday.

She had not by any means made up her mind what to buy, and, indeed, in Carrissima's eyes shopping was always an elaborate rite. She stood for a few minutes gazing in at the tempting window, and entering presently, began to inspect various trays of rings and brooches, although she had no intention to purchase anything of the kind. During the process Mr.

Donaldson, who had known her from childhood, came to the a.s.sistance of the salesman and talked about the weather. At last a silver card-case was selected.

"I wonder," said Carrissima, "whether it would be possible to have it engraved by to-morrow morning."

"I think that can be managed," returned Mr. Donaldson.

"You might send it to Golfney Place with my card," suggested Carrissima, taking one from her case.

"It shall be there quite early, madam," said the salesman, making a note in a long, slim book.

At the moment Carrissima scarcely noticed the significance of the fact that he appeared already to know the name of the recipient and the number of her house. He had certainly written "Miss Rosser, 5----"

before Carrissima had time to give him the address!

"The initials are B----"

But he had scribbled "B. R." in his book while yet the sentence was incomplete.

"How did you know?" she demanded eagerly.

"I beg your pardon, madam!" said the salesman, whilst Mr. Donaldson drew watchfully nearer.

"You wrote down the initials before I told you what they were!" she exclaimed.

"I think not," said Mr. Donaldson hastily. "I think you are making a mistake!"

She knew she had done nothing of the kind. She knew that Colonel Faversham must have been at the jeweller's before her this morning; that he had selected something to commemorate Bridget's birthday; something upon which also her initials were to be engraved.

"After all," she said, "I think you shall send the card-case to Grandison Square to-morrow morning."

Carrissima paid the bill, but in the reaction of her feelings she doubted whether she should give Bridget a present after all. It began to look as if there were some justification for Lawrence's suspicions, and for the first time she experienced serious fears for the future.

CHAPTER VII

THE EXCURSION

Carrissima could not make up her mind. When she set forth to Charteris Street to help in the entertainment of Phoebe's extremely juvenile guests, she was determined not to go near Golfney Place the following day. Seeing her amongst the children no one would have imagined that she had a sorrow in the world; she was the life and soul of the youthful party, and finally returned to Grandison Square in a becomingly dishevelled condition in time for dinner.

The following morning Colonel Faversham went to the hall at eleven o'clock, wearing a flower in his b.u.t.tonhole. Carrissima accompanying him dutifully to the door, remarked that he had a new top hat.

"Do you think it suits me?" he asked, turning to face her. "Not too much brim, Carrissima?"

"It looks a trifle small," she answered.

"Small--nonsense! A man doesn't want a hat to come down over his eyes.

I'm not a fogy yet, I hope."

"Why, of course not," she exclaimed. "Still, you will have to hold it on in the wind."

"Anyhow, that's better than using infernal pins that are a danger to the community," said Colonel Faversham. "I'll tell you what: next time I choose a hat I'll get you to come with me."

"I suppose you will be home to lunch," she suggested, telling herself she was shamefully cunning. But she could not help suspecting that he was off on some jaunt with Bridget, and no doubt she felt a little bitter about it.

"Shall I?" he answered, with a laugh. "Don't take too much for granted. I may get a snack at the club. Anyhow, you had better not wait."

She understood that he did not intend to return and wondered how she should dispose of her silver card-case. In no event would she go near Golfney Place that day! At about noon, however, it arrived from Donaldson's in a cardboard box, and really seemed too pretty to be wasted. There, too, were Bridget's initials, neatly engraved on its face, and, perhaps, after all, Colonel Faversham was reckoning without his guest. Miss Rosser might refuse to accept his present, whatever it might be--Carrissima felt very curious to know! She might decline to go out with him, and then her birthday would be spent in utter loneliness. Carrissima pictured her with melancholy reminiscences of her father and mother. Because whatever the girl's faults might be, she was certainly not lacking in natural affection. Surely some allowances ought to be made for the circ.u.mstances of the case.

Carrissima was excellent at making allowances for people! She was one of those tiresome, inconsistent young women who remain blind to the teachings of reason and experience, and ever find some remnants of good in the rag-bags of humanity.

Bridget had lost her mother when she was eighteen! She had knocked about with her father for several years since. Of course she ought not to have encouraged Mark's visits night after night, as doubtless she had done; but, then, she may have had the intelligence to see that Mark was a man in a thousand--in a thousand! Mark was a man in a million!

In the end Carrissima left Grandison Square at a few minutes before four o'clock that afternoon, and having rung the bell at Number 5, Golfney Place, she was crushed to hear from Miller that Bridget had been out since a quarter to twelve.

"Oh!" said Carrissima, ashamed of her own artfulness, "I suppose she went with Colonel Faversham?"

"Yes," returned Miller.

"Do you know where they have gone?" asked Carrissima.

"Colonel Faversham told the chauffeur to drive to Richmond."

"To Richmond--thank you," said Carrissima. "I will come another day."

Then she turned away with the card-case still in her hand and a heavier weight at her heart. She wished she had never gone to Crowborough that summer five years ago! Very devoutly she wished that Mark Driver had not visited the Old Masters' Exhibition. She had not walked far on her way home when she saw Jimmy Clynesworth coming towards her, and thought it rather early in the year for him to be wearing a straw hat in London.

Of course he stopped to speak. Jimmy was not the man to allow any one he knew to pa.s.s by, although for once in a way Carrissima would sooner have avoided the encounter.

"Have you heard from Sybil lately?" she asked.