“Then,” she cried more brightly, “English wouldn’t be spoken.”

“You and I would understand each other,” said Jimmy.  “That is all I care for.”

“There would be the coming back,” she suggested.

“Not necessarily,” he replied, and Bridget seemed to start as if some fresh idea had suddenly occurred to her mind.  “Anyhow, we needn’t think of returning before we set out,” he continued.

“I mustn’t,” she repeated.

“But, indeed, you must.”

“Mr. Clynesworth——­”

“What,” he asked, “is the matter with ’Jimmy’?”

“I fancy he is very—­very foolish,” said Bridget.  “I should have to get back by three o’clock,” she added.

“Well, half a loaf is better than no bread,” he returned.

“You promise faithfully I shall be home by three!”

“Anything in the world so that you come,” said Jimmy.

She went to get ready, and presently returned wearing a small hat which became her as well as the wide-brimmed one in which he had seen her the other morning.  She carried a heavy cloak over her arm, and seemed to find it difficult to button her gloves.  Finally she held out her hand to Jimmy, who lingered over the process; but by and by they went down-stairs together, out into the street, and he put her into the car, tucking the fur rug about her before taking his seat by her side.  Colonel Faversham was at church with Carrissima, looking forward during the Lessons to the afternoon, when he intended to reach Golfney Place by half-past three.

CHAPTER XV

MARK MAKES A BEGINNING

Colonel Faversham, without being a bigoted Sabbatarian, liked to make a difference between Sunday and the other six days.  He always expected a rather more elaborate dinner and never failed to go to sleep after luncheon.  He allowed himself an extra cigar or two, and, in short, deprecated anything which threatened to disturb his peace.

During the last few days his mind, chiefly owing to lapse of time, had been easier concerning Bridget.  Without being demonstratively affectionate, she appeared as cheerful as ever, so that he reached Number 5, Golfney Place at half-past three this afternoon with every hope of spending an agreeable hour or two in her presence.

“Hullo!” he exclaimed, before he had been many minutes in the room, “wild flowers!”

“I think they must be,” said Bridget, with a laugh.

“They look fresh!”

“They ought to be,” she answered.  “They were growing an hour or two ago.”

“In the country?” suggested the colonel.

“Wouldn’t it be lovely if one could pick primroses and marsh marigolds in London!” said Bridget.

“Bridget,” cried Colonel Faversham, “I believe you take a delight in teasing me.  I suppose the people of the house gave them to you!”

“How much I should like to have a motor-car,” she said suddenly.