table marriage, she saw that he had
made up his mind.

The idea of living on unfriendly terms with him or his wife appeared
preposterous, whereas a single false step at this critical period might
easily make Bridget her enemy for life. So Sybil expressed her
willingness to fall in with Jimmy's wishes; she would go to Blackheath
in the motor-car early the following morning, inconvenient as the
expedition would be; and she would bring Miss Rosser back to Golfney
Place.

When the time came, however, Sybil set out with considerable
nervousness, and her legs threatened to give way beneath her as she got
out of the motor-car at the garden gate. The first sight of Bridget at
least put an end to any surprise at Jimmy's infatuation, and when she
came forward with both hands held out, kissing her visitor's cheek
without the slightest hesitation, the way was half won to Sybil's
accessible heart.

"You see, you are Jimmy's sister," said Bridget, with a charming air of
entreaty, and in spite of her former equivocal opinion of Miss Rosser,
Sybil could not refrain from answering--

"My dear, you must let me be yours."

Bridget, it appeared, was to return to lunch in Upper Grosvenor Street,
and Jimmy, having already spoken to Miller, would escort her to No. 5,
Golfney Place during the afternoon. It was while he was absent on this
errand that Sybil sat down to write to Carrissima, sending the note to
Grandison Square by hand. Since the reproachful letter which Sybil had
received on the morning after the interview with Mark Driver, it seemed
too soon to carry the epoch-marking news in person. So she explained
that Jimmy was engaged to be married, and admitted her own more
favourable impression of her prospective sister-in-law; she told
Carrissima that Bridget had returned to Golfney Place, and added that
the wedding was to take place at once.

"Well," demanded Colonel Faversham, who happened to be sitting with
Carrissima when Knight brought in the letter, "who's it from?"

"Sybil Clynesworth," she answered, with her eyes on the notepaper.

"What has she got to say?" exclaimed the colonel, fidgeting in his
chair. "Why do you hesitate?" he added.

"Jimmy is going to be married," said Carrissima.

"H'm! Going to marry Bridget?"

"From what Sybil says, in a very few days," was the answer.

Colonel Faversham said nothing more at the moment. He had been doing
his utmost to make a virtue of necessity. The grapes were sou