"I wonder," she suggested, "whether you remember our holiday at
Crowborough some years ago?"

"Remember it--of course I remember it. Do you think I'm in my dotage.
You make an immense mistake. My memory was never better. I will back
it against yours any day."

"Then you haven't forgotten Mr. Rosser----"

"Rosser!" cried Colonel Faversham. "A shortish man with a red beard
and an invalid wife: wrote twaddling novels. I tried to read one of
them--couldn't get through it. He played a devilish good game all the
same. What about him?"

"I have met his daughter," said Carrissima, and, in reply to her
father's demand for further information, she told him all she knew
about Bridget; how that she had made Mark Driver late for dinner; how
that, after some dubitation, a visit had been paid to Golfney Place,
and duly returned.

On learning that Bridget was good to look upon and only a few months
older that Carrissima, Colonel Faversham blinked his eyes and fingered
his large grey moustache. He took a cigar from his case by and by,
Carrissima trying to stifle her yawns while he talked about golf and
described some of his hands at bridge. To illustrate his skill, he
made her bring some cards, and, sweeping clear a space on the table,
kept her up until past midnight.

Colonel Faversham always came to breakfast with brisk and almost