"I can't say it," she cried. "I suppose I am too great a coward.
You—you shall know to-morrow!"
"You will fix the day for certain!" said Colonel Faversham eagerly.
"You shall know to-morrow," she repeated.
"Now, that," he exclaimed, rising from his chair, "is a promise!"
"A solemn promise," murmured Bridget; and a few minutes later Colonel Faversham went away, strutting along the street with his chest puffed out, walking on air, and certainly never doubting that Bridget's promise would be fulfilled. At the end of Golfney Place his expression changed as he saw Jimmy Clynesworth—on his way to No. 5, no doubt! Well, let Jimmy make the most of his opportunities. He would not find very many more! Another week or two and Bridget would be whisked away from England to return as Mrs. Faversham.
"Some one," remarked Jimmy, as he entered Bridget's sitting-room, "has been smoking a decent cigar!"
"Colonel Faversham," replied Bridget.
"His visit doesn't seem to have bucked you up," said Jimmy, with his eyes on her face, as he held her hand. "I despise the man who can't interfere with what doesn't concern him on occasion! I have been wondering lately whether you can possibly be in any kind of hobble. Bridget, I should immensely like to help you out."
This was intended to be the prelude to a formal proposal of marriage. After keeping silence with difficulty so long, Jimmy considered that the time had at last come when he might put his fate to the touch. Nor was he tormented by any very serious doubts concerning her surrender. Jimmy had seen enough to feel blissfully satisfied that Bridget loved him, and for his own part, he had never met any other woman whom he desired to marry.
"Jimmy!" she murmured, looking up at him wistfully.