"Almost as detestable a crime!" cried Mark. "Do you mean that he has actually asked you——"
"If he hadn't, how should I know?" she replied. "Because there's always the chance of a slip between the cup and the lip. Besides, even such an unreticent person as myself couldn't possibly anticipate. I dare say you wonder that I talk to you about it, in any case; but then, you see, I have nobody else."
"You haven't done anything so monstrous as to accept him?" said Mark.
"Oh—monstrous!" she murmured.
"Of course, it's unthinkable!"
"Indeed it is not," said Bridget. "If you only knew how I have lain awake thinking of it. Still, I wouldn't say 'yes.' I have kept the poor dear man in suspense till your return. He is quite ridiculously—well, in love with me, I suppose he would call it."
"Obviously you are nothing of the kind," suggested Mark.
"In love—with Colonel Faversham!" she cried, with a laugh. "You know,
Mark, he is most horridly jealous."
"So there's some one else?"
"Only you," she said, and Mark started to his feet.