"I am sorry they are so untidy," said Carrissima, with every appearance of cheerfulness.
"Are they really for me!" cried Bridget, taking the flowers and placing them on the table.
"What a lovely day," said Carrissima, although it was the worst she had ever known. "Have they sent home the carpet, yet?" she added, as Mark offered his hand with some embarrassment. He was certainly the most awkward of the three; the women far surpassing him in finesse.
"Have you been buying a carpet?" asked Bridget, as she laid the flowers on the table. "How interesting! Do, please, tell me all about it?"
"For one of my rooms in Weymouth Street," answered Mark.
"Have you actually taken rooms?" said Bridget. "Too bad not to tell me!"
Carrissima, now prepared to recognize deception everywhere, found it difficult to look cheerful. She had no doubt that Bridget knew all about the rooms, which Mark began rather eagerly to describe. It was obvious, however, that he was impatient to get away, and Carrissima, raising her eyes abruptly, intercepted a curiously entreating glance from him to Bridget, who at once held out her hand.
"Shall you be at home this evening?" he asked, turning to Carrissima the next moment.
Although she would infinitely have preferred to say "no," to avoid seeing him again, indeed, as long as the world lasted, she felt afraid lest she should awaken a suspicion of her enlightenment. It seemed inevitable that she must continue to meet him in the future as she had done in the past, and, perhaps, the sooner the next encounter took place the better!
"Oh yes, I think so," she answered. "Shall I see you?"