He could not feel absolutely confident.  Carrissima had builded better than she knew.  So cleverly had she dissembled her emotions that there were times when Mark feared lest he should take her completely by surprise; but in any case the declaration must not much longer be postponed.  If his desires were gratified, it appeared obvious that these three rooms would prove inadequate, while, incongruously enough, it was the fact that he had made some kind of beginning by taking them, which justified his increasingly impatient aspirations.

Carrissima, arriving with Phoebe at half-past four, was prepared to admire everything.  She was taken first to the small consulting-room, and shown various kinds of apparatus for the administration of ether, chloroform and gas, then to the waiting-room, where Phoebe poured out tea.  Mrs. Lawrence Faversham, for her part, was more critical.  She insisted that Mark had paid more than the furniture was worth.  Much of it was fit only for the dusthole!  The curtains, for instance, were falling to pieces, and in any case he positively was bound to invest in a new carpet.

“Look at the darns!” she cried.  “It must have served for generation after generation of physicians.  It is enough to put any patient off!  Whatever you do without, you really must have a new carpet.”

“Don’t you think I could rub along with the old one for the present?” asked Mark, turning to Carrissima, who, however, felt she must agree with her sister-in-law.

“Such a fuss about seven or eight guineas,” said Phoebe.  “If you won’t buy one I shall have to make you a present.”

“Well, then,” exclaimed Mark suddenly, “suppose you and Carrissima help me choose it.  I am a perfect idiot at that sort of thing.  Where shall we go?”

“You would never ask such a question,” said Carrissima, looking wonderfully happy as she sat holding her cup and saucer, “if you had any real feeling for the Art of Shopping.  We will go everywhere.  The first thing is to land yourself in the neighbourhood—­then you plunge.  The idea of making up your mind where to buy a thing before you start.  That’s not the way.  Do it thoroughly and see all that is to be seen.”

“When shall we go,” asked Mark, “since I mustn’t ask where?”

“Any afternoon you like to name next week!”

“It is evidently going to be a long job,” said Mark.  “Suppose we say Monday afternoon.  I will call for Phoebe at three in a taxi, then we will make for Grandison Square.”

Carrissima left Weymouth Street in the highest spirits, and at last began to wonder whether her long patience was by way of being rewarded.  When Monday arrived she actually put on her hat—­her most becoming hat—­before the appointed time, and as she sat waiting for Mark and Phoebe Colonel Faversham looked into the dining-room.

“Oh, ah, Carrissima!” he said; “it occurs to me that you haven’t seen much of Bridget lately.  I should like you to go to Golfney Place.  You’ve nothing in the world to do.  You look idle enough sitting there!  Suppose you go this afternoon!”