“Is it?” murmured Carrissima, who clung to a vastly different ideal.

“What bores we should become!” said Bridget.  “And, you know, whatever you do to a man you must never bore him—­poor fellow!  But, please, don’t encourage me to talk about myself—­not that I really need much encouragement.  I feel so perfectly delighted with everything!—­how is Mark?” she added, abruptly changing her tone.

“He looked very well the last time I saw him,” replied Carrissima, at once on guard.

“When was that?”

“A few days ago!”

“You don’t appear to have any interesting announcement to make,” suggested Bridget, with expressive eyes on Carrissima’s face.  Now, Carrissima hesitated.  She could easily have answered in such a way that her hostess, with all her audacity, would have been silenced.

“I haven’t spoken to Mark,” she faltered, “since your marriage.”

“How disappointing!” cried Bridget.  “So, after all my efforts you didn’t follow the advice I gave you.”

“No,” said Carrissima.

“Why not?”

“Oh well, I couldn’t,” said Carrissima, and Bridget shrugged her shoulders as if to put the topic aside.

“Did the colonel tell you,” she inquired, “that Jimmy is going to stand for Atlinghurst?  Between us we are going to accomplish the most wonderful things.  He always insists that his mind is too independent for the House of Commons, but I tell him a man must expect to sacrifice some of his independence when he marries.”

“In spite of all your theories!” suggested Carrissima.

“Of course,” Bridget continued, “I quite understand that most people believe Jimmy sacrificed a great deal more than that!  Your brother Lawrence, for instance!  Oh dear, I can imagine exactly what he says!  Carrissima, there’s one thing which makes me angry!”

“Only one?” said Carrissima.

“The want of discrimination in the human mind.  I dare say that even yours is tainted!  It’s of no use to pretend you can’t understand.  In a moment of self-denying effusiveness I admitted that I deliberately angled for a husband:  first for Mark Driver, then for Colonel Faversham.  Well, although one would have none of me and I didn’t want the other, the fact remains that I am the wife of the richest of the trio!  Everybody who knows Jimmy naturally thinks that was all I thought about—­his money, his position and so forth.  Well, there’s only one consolation,” said Bridget.

“What is that?” demanded Carrissima.

“Jimmy knows better.  I can’t tell you how, but there’s the glorious fact that he does.  All the evidence was against me!  I suppose Jimmy is a kind of seer—­oh, of course you can’t help smiling at that!  But, then, neither you nor any one else has the slightest idea what there is in Jimmy.  Carrissima, my husband is a clever man who has the misfortune—­if it is really a misfortune—­to see both sides of every question too distinctly!  Being a poor partisan, he appears to lack enthusiasm.  But, then, I have a boundless store!”