Still she looked up at him rather pitifully, her eyes meeting his own, her chin invitingly raised with its delectable dimple. Now, Mark wished devoutly that the idea of that dimple as a sort of point d'appui had never entered his thoughts, but there was the regrettable fact. Of course he had hitherto always resisted the temptation, which was the greater because he knew that he need not fear opposition; but still, there was Carrissima and he resisted it again.
He went to Grandison Square the following afternoon as if to seek a corrective; and once in her presence marvelled at his own weakness. Here was the woman, as somebody says, for him to go picnicking through the world with. Not that the time had arrived just yet. Mark was not without a sturdy independence. Besides, there would be Colonel Faversham to deal with. As soon as he had made a beginning in his profession, then would be the time to ask Carrissima to share his lot.
"Well, did you see Bridget?" she asked.
"Oh yes," said Mark.
"If you appointed yourself her father-confessor she must have been a wee bit surprised."
"The surprise was on my side," said Mark.
"What about?" demanded Carrissima.
"The state of her finances. All she has in the world is the remnant of two or three thousand pounds she inherited from her mother. Rosser left her nothing, and she is calmly spending her capital."
"But why," suggested Carrissima, "should she go out of her way to enlighten you about her income?"
"Anyhow," was the answer, "the time is bound to come when she won't possess one."