“My dear Carrissima!”

“I saw him kissing her—­oh, how disgusting it is!” said Carrissima, with a shudder.

“How shockingly embarrassed you must all have felt,” suggested Sybil.

“Oh dear, no,” was the answer.  “Neither of them had the slightest idea they were seen.  We all behaved beautifully—­beautifully.”

“Well, I must say this is the best news I have heard for a long time,” said Sybil, looking wonderfully relieved.

“The—­the best news!” returned Carrissima, pressing her hands to her bosom.

“Of course, if she is going to marry Mark——­”

“I don’t believe she is!” said Carrissima.

“But, my dear, if you actually saw them!”

“I don’t believe it,” was the answer.  “If he means to marry her what is the object of all this secrecy?  Mark told me only yesterday that he had not seen her for weeks.  I shall never know whom to believe again as long as I live.  While he pretended Bridget was nothing to him, this—­this hateful business has been going on in the background.  I have been afraid she would marry my father; you have dreaded that she would marry Jimmy, and yet this afternoon I actually saw—­oh, it is abominable.  There is only one explanation.  There must have been some—­some understanding between them from the first.”

“I always told Jimmy she might not be respectable,” said Sybil.

Hearing that on another’s lips, the slightest suggestion of which already Carrissima regretted should have passed her own, cooler judgment began to return.  In her wrath she had felt prepared to think anything that was vile of both Mark and Bridget; but only for the moment.  Already she repented that she had opened her heart to Sybil.

“Oh, I don’t want to go too far,” she exclaimed.  “Of course there must be some explanation!  You quite understand, Sybil!  You are not to repeat a single word which I have said to any one.”

“My dear, I ought to tell Jimmy before it’s too late.  I am sure only one conclusion is possible.

“Jimmy ought to be able to look after himself,” urged Carrissima.

“Ah, there are very few men who can do that where a pretty woman is concerned,” said Sybil.

“Anyhow,” returned Carrissima, “I shall not let you go until you have given me your solemn promise.  You are not to breathe a word—­not a syllable.”

“Of course if you insist——­”

“I do,” said Carrissima.  “I was idiotic to speak about the odious thing.  You promise you will never repeat a word to any living being!”

“Very well, my dear,” was the docile answer, and then Carrissima breathed more freely.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOW IT HAPPENED

Mark Driver, on returning from the carpet-purchasing expedition, spent the evening alone in his Weymouth Street rooms.  He had not the least intention to go near Golfney Place the following day, and every word he had spoken during the walk home with Carrissima was precisely true.