CHAPTER IV

BRIDGET AT GRANDISON SQUARE

Carrissima walked back to Grandison Square, feeling not a whit less
jealous than she had set out. There seemed, it is true, something
about Bridget Rosser to which she was scarcely accustomed in her own
personal friends; something difficult to describe. It might be due to
an innate ingenuousness, or, in part, to the quasi-Bohemian life she
had probably lived during the last few years abroad.

There seemed to be an absence of reticence; a kind of natural freedom
which assuredly had a charm of its own, although some persons might not
approve of it--Lawrence, for one!

He came to Grandison Square the same evening, entering the drawing-room
still wearing his heavy overcoat.

"A bitter wind has sprung up," he said, standing close to the fire.

"What a pity you took the trouble to turn out in it," suggested
Carrissima, always rather inclined to resent his superintendence.

"What have you been doing all day?" he asked. "You haven't given
Phoebe a look in."

"I went to Golfney Place this afternoon," was the answer.

"Golfney Place----"