t church with Carrissima, looking forward during
the Lessons to the afternoon, when he intended to reach Golfney Place
by half-past three.

CHAPTER XV

MARK MAKES A BEGINNING

Colonel Faversham, without being a bigoted Sabbatarian, liked to make a
difference between Sunday and the other six days. He always expected a
rather more elaborate dinner and never failed to go to sleep after
luncheon. He allowed himself an extra cigar or two, and, in short,
deprecated anything which threatened to disturb his peace.

During the last few days his mind, chiefly owing to lapse of time, had
been easier concerning Bridget. Without being demonstratively
affectionate, she appeared as cheerful as ever, so that he reached
Number 5, Golfney Place at half-past three this afternoon with every
hope of spending an agreeable hour or two in her presence.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed, before he had been many minutes in the room,
"wild flowers!"

"I think they must be," said Bridget, with a laugh.

"They look fresh!"

"They ought to be," she answered. "They were growing an hour or two
ago."

"In the country?" suggested the colonel.

"Wouldn't it be lovely if one could pick primroses and marsh marigolds
in London!" said Bridget.

"Bridget," cried Colonel Faversham, "I believe you take a delight in
teasing me. I suppose the people of the house gave them to you!"

"How much I should like to have a motor-car," she said suddenly.

"Why not?" he demanded. "Why shouldn't you have a motor-car? I often
wonder I've never gone in for one before now. Bridget, there are few
things you shan't have when once you're my wife."

She leaned back in her chair, biting her nether lip, and every now and
then glancing reflectively at the colonel, as if in hesitation.

"Such a delightful ride!" she cried a few minutes later.

"Eh--what--when?" he said.

"This morning, of course. Jimmy took me by surprise. He called for me
shortly after eleven. I couldn't resist going. We went through some
of the loveliest Surrey villages."

"What about lunch?" asked Colonel Faversham, with difficulty bottling
up his wrath.

"Oh, we stopped at the sweetest little inn that seemed to be miles away
from everywhere and everybody. Of course, we hadn't much time to
spare."

That was one consolation, and Bridget's candour was another;
nevertheless. Colonel Faversham found his Sunday afternoon quite
spoilt, and finally left Golfney Place in a humour to make