"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 tremendously
nice--he always is, isn't he? He insisted that I should go out to
dinner and what could I do?"

"Why, nothing but go," replied Carrissima, with the utmost cheerfulness.

"Still," said Bridget, "he seemed quite worried about his
brother-in-law. I mustn't tell tales out of school, and Mr. Faversham
is your brother, isn't he? Won't you unfasten those furs," she
suggested. "You must find them rather warm to-day, although I'm
certain I should have put them on in spite of the temperature if they
were mine. Perfectly lovely! Do let me help you!"

She turned on the wide sofa to face Carrissima and deftly unhooked the
furs, taking the end of the stole in her hands and pressing it against
her cheek. When the butler brought in the tea-tray, Bridget asked him
to move a small table on to the hearthrug, and as soon as he left the
room again she began to talk while pouring out the tea.

"How often," she cried, "I have wondered whether I should ever see you
again during this earthly pilgrimage. Sugar?" she asked. "You
remember our dear old house and the delightful garden! Of course my
darling mother's illness had begun before you came to Crowborough.
Poor father was never really the same after her death."