sofa covered with cretonne of a florid pattern, and
from the middle of this Bridget rose.

She was obviously formed to play havoc with the hearts of men, and
although she could scarcely be described as beautiful, she was no doubt
marvellously seductive. If her features were not regular, the ensemble
was delightful, even in the estimation of one who felt disposed to
criticize. Her face would have run to a point at the chin if this had
not been blunted by an entrancing dimple. Bridget's vivid
chestnut-coloured hair grew low over a somewhat wide forehead, while
her eyes were dark and curiously expressive.

Without being conspicuously tall, she had the advantage of her guest by
several inches, although her figure might be less developed, or perhaps
it looked smaller because of her additional inches. She obviously
employed an excellent dressmaker, and if she had hitherto been
compelled to hide her light under a bushel, she had surely only to be
seen to conquer. The important question was: Had she already succeeded
in conquering Mark Driver?

For an instant she stood gazing at Carrissima as if unable to believe
either her ears or her eyes; then with a slow, gliding movement, in
contrast with the other's more rapid, impulsive manner, she came
forward holding out both hands.

"Why, it's Carrissima, after all these many, many years!" she
exclaimed, and without a moment's hesitation kissed her cheek, just as
she had done at parting that long time ago. "How nice of you to come,"
she continued, still retaining one of her guest's hands, and leading
her to the sofa. "I suppose it was Mark who asked you," she said, as
they both sat down.

"He didn't exactly ask me," returned Carrissima. "Of course I
shouldn't have known you were in London but for him. I met him at my
brother's the other evening."

"Ah, that was the night he arrived so late for dinner," said Bridget.
"Did he get into the most dreadful scrape?"

"Anyhow," was the answer, "I suppose he was able to start to Paris the
next morning, as I haven't heard to the contrary."

"Oh yes," cried Bridget, "if he hadn't gone I should have seen him
here. Isn't it tiresome of him!"

"What?" asked Carrissima.

"No sooner coming back to London than off he must go the very next day.
He came to see me directly he returned from Yorkshire," Bridget
explained, "and--well, I happened to have a fit of the miserables. I
assure you I am not often taken that way. Mark was tr