"Upon my word," he replied, "it's difficult to refuse to promise you anything."
"Well, then, please make Carrissima pay me a visit at once—at once, you understand?"
As Colonel Faversham walked on to his club, hastening because he had grown cold standing still so long, he doubted whether or not he should mention Mrs. Jimmy's name at Grandison Square. He never ceased to congratulate himself, inasmuch as the fact of his abortive engagement had been kept secret. Even if Carrissima suspected anything of the kind, she could not possibly know for certain! Colonel Faversham realized, however, that his relationship to Bridget in former days might still be raked up as food for scoffers, and he shrank from anything of the nature of ridicule. Mrs. Jimmy, indeed, was a delicate topic, and he would probably have kept his own counsel concerning the meeting in Piccadilly, if he had not feared lest she should subsequently come into contact with Carrissima, when his silence might defeat his own end.
"Whom do you think I saw this morning?" he asked, after dinner that evening.
"Not—not Bridget?" she exclaimed.
"Yes—Mrs. Jimmy! They have been in London only a couple of days."
"Then you spoke to her?"
"Good gracious!" answered the colonel, "why on earth shouldn't I speak to her. As a matter of fact there was no getting out of it. She insisted on speaking to me. She is living in a furnished flat—Aberdeen Mansion, close to Hyde Park Corner, you know, and she made me promise that you should pay her a visit as soon as possible. I don't know whether you will care to go."
"Oh yes," said Carrissima, "I am bound to call sooner or later."
"Well, well, you know best," was the answer. "She thought I was looking uncommonly well—at least she said so. Goodness knows whether she meant it. Anyhow, I feel pretty fit!"