“What’s the matter with you?” he demanded.  “Tell me what it is.  Only let me know.  What more can a man ask?”

“Oh, it is nothing,” said Bridget amidst her tears.  “Only that I am the most miserable woman in the world.”

Although he did his best, he could not succeed in tranquilizing her, and finally went away, leaving her in the most despondent mood.  Alone in his smoking-room the same evening, Colonel Faversham did his utmost to arrive at some explanation of Bridget’s passionate outburst of grief.

Could it be possible she was distressed at the sight of his disapproval.  He ought to keep a firmer rein on his temper!  He must remember that Bridget was a delicate girl, and treat her with the kindness she deserved.

This more satisfactory explanation, however, did not prove entirely convincing.  She might be unhappy because she repented of her promise; well, in any event he intended to keep her to it!  She could scarcely think of breaking her engagement on Jimmy’s account!  She had spoilt herself for that.  Colonel Faversham, as she must know, was not the man to stand silently by while she transferred herself to a younger aspirant.  She had sense enough to understand, too, that Jimmy had only to hear of the existing engagement to retire from the competition.

As a matter of fact, Jimmy had no thought of drawing back.  The following Sunday morning the sun seemed to shine more brightly than usual, and Bridget stood at one of the windows of her sitting-room, looking out at the few passers-by on their way to the white-fronted church farther along the street.  Its bell was ringing cheerfully.

Until the last few years she had always lived in the country, and now her thoughts flew back to earlier days, and she pictured the fields and hedgerows, remembering the places where she used to find daffodils and primroses and violets.  A longing seemed to seize upon her as the church bells left off ringing, and then she heard a hooter, and saw a dark-red motor-car stop at the door, with a chauffeur driving and Jimmy, with a light-brown fur rug over his knees, sitting alone behind.

“A magnificent morning!” he cried, entering her sitting-room a few moments later.  “I couldn’t resist the temptation, and to tell you the truth, I didn’t try very hard.  I hope you’ll let me take you for a spin into the country.”

“Of course it would be lovely!” said Bridget.

“Then I shall give you five minutes to get ready,” answered Jimmy.

“I really mustn’t,” she insisted.

“Why not?” he demanded.  “Aren’t you as free as the larks?”

Bridget sighed as she stood looking out at the car in the street below.

“Come,” urged Jimmy.  “Let me take you to hear them sing!”

“Where?” she faltered.

“Oh, you must give me carte-blanche!”

“Suppose I were reckless enough!” said Bridget.

“We would go to the farthest and most secluded corner of the earth where the sun always shines, but never too fiercely.”