of the change which
had occurred in Bridget, who yet remained in many ways the same as she
had ever been and most likely always would be. But she had no longer
anything to disguise, anything to scheme for. Her manner was
characterized by a new and delightful air of authority, and, indeed,
Carrissima, if anybody, had become the plotter now! As far as Mrs.
Jimmy was concerned the slate had been cleaned. No, in spite of
anything that Lawrence might say, in spite of all that Bridget had
done, Carrissima could not believe that Jimmy Clynesworth was to be
very deeply pitied.

CHAPTER XXVIII

EXEUNT OMNES

Carrissima, in her curiosity to know the identity of the "people" whom
Bridget wished her to meet, paid a visit to Upper Grosvenor Street.
Sybil Clynesworth's breach of trust had been long ago forgiven, and now
she was asked, in the most casual tone, whether she was to make one of
the party at Aberdeen Mansion on Thursday.

"My dear," said Sybil, "Bridget quite understands that I do not care
for that sort of thing. I must say she is kindness itself, and she
wouldn't hear of my turning out of this house; she wouldn't hear of it.
And really Jimmy seems exceedingly happy."

When Thursday evening arrived, Carrissima proved once more very
exacting while she was being dressed for dinner. Her hair had to be
twice taken down again, and at the last minute she changed her mind
about her gown. Her maid had not found her so troublesome since that
evening in March when she went to dine with Lawrence and Phoebe in
Charteris Street, and on that disappointing occasion Carrissima
expected to meet Mark Driver.

She could not feel quite so confident of his presence at Aberdeen
Mansion this evening, and in any case such an encounter might not
necessarily tend to mitigate the unfortunate coolness which had grown
up between them. Still it would be a satisfaction to sit in the same
room with him; perhaps he would even take her in to dinner, and
to-night might prove the beginning of better days. Those through which
Carrissima was living at present could scarcely be much worse!

Even Colonel Faversham remarked how well she was looking when she said
"good-bye."

"I hope you won't feel very dull by yourself," she suggested.

"Dull!" he retorted. "Why in the world should I feel dull! You speak
as if I couldn't tolerate my own society for a few hours. Give me a
decent cigar and the _Field_, and I ask for nothing more. Bes