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"I am sorry you kept me in the dark," was the answer.
"So am I," she said.
He took one hand out of his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair.
"You see," he remarked, "I have known the colonel nearly my whole life.
Well, good-bye," he added, holding out his hand.
"Oh--good-bye," said Bridget, and Jimmy was on his way down-stairs the next moment, out of the house and losing no time in finding his way back to Upper Grosvenor Street. Going at once to the smoking-room, he sat down, and leaning forward, covered his face with his hands. In this dejected att.i.tude Sybil found him a few minutes later. As he had obviously not observed her entrance, she went to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"My dearest Jimmy," she explained, "whatever is the matter?"
Rising from his chair, he walked to the mantelshelf, took a cigarette from a box and lighted it.
"I may as well get it off my chest," he said. "I went to ask Bridget to marry me."
"Oh--Jimmy!" was the reproachful answer.
"You needn't bother yourself," he explained. "She took the wind out of my sails by the announcement that she was affianced to old Faversham before I saw her face."
"To Colonel Faversham!" cried Sybil. "Poor Carrissima!"
Sybil, it is true, had too much experience to be actually astonished at such enormity, but nevertheless she was deeply shocked. Why, Miss Rosser was engaged to be married to the colonel at the time when she had been seen in Mark Driver's arms.
"Understand," said Jimmy, "Carrissima is not to be told. No one knows but the two concerned and myself. I was never so sorely tempted in my life."
"Tempted!" exclaimed Sybil.
"To play the part of Young Lochinvar, you know. She would have gone with me!" he added excitedly. "She would have gone with me!"
"My dear," returned his sister, "you could surely never dream of acting so dishonourably. Such an old friend as Colonel Faversham, too!"
"Oh yes, I dreamed of it," said Jimmy. "You know they say we're all no better than we should be in our dreams. My difficulty was that I woke too soon!"
CHAPTER XX
IN SIGHT OF PORT
"Good-morning, Carrissima!" said Colonel Faversham on Thursday morning, rubbing his palms briskly together as he entered the dining-room. "It looks as if there's going to be a change in the weather. A little rain will do good."
"Will it?" answered Carrissima, perfunctorily.
"What's the matter?" he demanded. "You're not eating anything. Always have a good breakfast. Lay a foundation for the day. Look at me!
When my appet.i.te fails, I shall begin to think it's time I gave in."
He made an enormous breakfast, and when at last it ended, took out his cigar-case. Having lighted a cigar, he carried the newspaper to his smoking-room and sat down, only to get up again the next minute. He did not care a sc.r.a.p about the news! The Socialists might upset the const.i.tution for all Colonel Faversham minded this morning! His thoughts already outran him to Golfney Place, where he fully expected to hear from Bridget's lips that she should be prepared to marry him within a week or a fortnight at the latest.
How enchantingly coy the dear girl had been yesterday! Taking down a Continental Bradshaw from one of the bookshelves, he looked up the route to Milan. She had chosen Rome, Naples and Capri for the honeymoon, and of course she should have her own way! Unable to control his impatience after half-past ten, Colonel Faversham went to his dressing-room, limping up-stairs as no one was looking, and imparted a more militant twirl to his moustache. When he reached the hall again Knight held his thin overcoat and handed his top-hat, gloves and malacca cane.
Seeing a taxi-cab Colonel Faversham hailed it, so that he reached Golfney Place earlier than ever before. As he rang the bell he could scarcely control his muscles. He coughed so violently that one or two people looked back at him in pa.s.sing. He s.h.i.+fted the position of his hat so often as he waited for Miller to open the door, that he might have been making a series of automatic bows to imaginary acquaintances.
He stamped his feet and felt that his necktie was in the middle of his s.h.i.+rt front, and then he rang a second time.
"Good heavens!" he muttered, "why can't the man come! Why can't he let me in!"
Miller opened the door at last, in the act of thrusting one arm into his coat. By the time Colonel Faversham had crossed the threshold the butler had a.s.sumed his usual deferential stoop and his manner was as suave as ever.
"Good-morning, Miller," said Colonel Faversham, pacified the instant he obtained admittance. "I am rather early. Miss Rosser?"
"Miss Rosser is not here, colonel," was the astounding answer.
"Not here! Good gracious! What do you mean?"
"Miss Rosser left the house at half-past three yesterday afternoon, colonel."
"Do you mean to tell me she has not returned?" demanded Colonel Faversham.
"No," said Miller.
"But I have an appointment with her this morning!"
"I understand that Miss Rosser is not coming back, colonel," answered Miller.
Colonel Faversham was ceasing to look entirely bewildered. He grew exceedingly red in the face; his eyes appeared to be starting out of his head. Horrible thoughts occurred to him. He glared at Miller as if he were responsible for Bridget's departure, and with miserable sensations he began to put a new interpretation upon the coyness which he had found so seductive yesterday morning.
"Miss Rosser," said Miller, "left a letter for you."
"Why on earth couldn't you tell me so at once!" demanded Colonel Faversham.
"And a parcel," said Miller.
"Where are they? Where are they?" exclaimed the colonel; and Miller went to the rear of the hall, returning the next moment with a fair-sized, brown-paper parcel in his hand. It obviously contained the crocodile-hide dressing-bag, which had been Bridget's birthday present; the handle, indeed, projected for convenience of transport.
"Would you like to step into the dining-room, colonel?" suggested Miller, giving him a square envelope.
"d.a.m.n the dining-room!" shouted Colonel Faversham, as with trembling fingers he broke the seal, whilst Miller still held the bag. Colonel Faversham did not wait to fix his eye-gla.s.s.
"DEAR COLONEL FAVERSHAM" (he read),
"How sorry I am to give you pain, and I know that I am doing so. I cannot possibly marry you, and I have not the courage to say so to your face. Why didn't you understand how hard I tried to tell you this morning--you really might have helped me out! You have always been so very kind. I positively hate to treat you badly. I have put all your presents inside the dressing-bag. Please try to forgive me, although I don't suppose you ever will! If it is any consolation to you, I feel--oh, so miserable!
"Yours sincerely,
"BRIDGET ROSSER."