"You anticipate a miracle?"
"It wouldn't be far out of the natural order of things," she replied.
"You expect some one—one of your aunts, for instance—to leave you a fortune!" said Mark.
"Oh dear, no! I am not in the least likely to wish any one to die. Really I think you are rather stupid this evening. There might be a marriage, you know. Such things do happen!"
"Anyhow," he answered, "you mustn't let yourself be frightened into marrying Colonel Faversham."
Rising from her end of the sofa, Bridget glided to his, and standing close in front of him, so that her skirt brushed his knees, she looked insinuatingly into his face.
"Will you," she said, "kindly tell me what I am to do, Mr. Driver?"
CHAPTER XI
MARK REPORTS PROGRESS
Mark Driver must have been much more obtuse than the most of his friends believed, to fail to recognize the invitation in Bridget's demeanour. Although he had not the slightest intention to profit by it, he could not pretend that for the moment it lacked enticement.