CHAPTER XXVI
LAWRENCE SUMS IT UP
The ensuing few hours proved the most restless of Carrissima's life. At luncheon she could scarcely concentrate her thoughts sufficiently to listen to the explanation of Colonel Faversham's plans for the forthcoming tour abroad, and afterwards she retired to her own room, where she made a valiant attempt to persuade herself that as the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain.
It required, however, considerable courage to follow Bridget's advice and send Mark a letter, and when at last she succeeded in silencing her doubts, she scarcely knew what to say to him. Hitherto, in all her dealings with Mark, she had felt uncertain (to say the least) about his regard. Now, if Bridget were to be credited, there remained no room for disbelief. Mark loved her! In spite of that compromising situation which she had witnessed, he loved her.
If this were the case, nothing else seemed to be of any importance. Carrissima was prepared to condone an offence, the importance of which, she supposed, she had exaggerated; and perhaps if she were to make herself more abject, he would grasp the olive branch. As Bridget suggested, what did it matter so that they came together at last? Granting his love, as there could be no doubt about her own, it would be sheer foolishness to allow the present unfortunate estrangement to continue.
So she took a pen presently, and after profound consideration succeeded in writing the few necessary words—
"MY DEAR MARK,
"Will you be magnanimous and spare me a few minutes after dinner this evening?
"Yours very sincerely,