“Well,” demanded Colonel Faversham, who happened to be sitting with Carrissima when Knight brought in the letter, “who’s it from?”

“Sybil Clynesworth,” she answered, with her eyes on the notepaper.

“What has she got to say?” exclaimed the colonel, fidgeting in his chair.  “Why do you hesitate?” he added.

“Jimmy is going to be married,” said Carrissima.

“H’m!  Going to marry Bridget?”

“From what Sybil says, in a very few days,” was the answer.

Colonel Faversham said nothing more at the moment.  He had been doing his utmost to make a virtue of necessity.  The grapes were sour.  He ought to be thankful for a lucky escape!  He wished Jimmy joy of his bargain!  Nevertheless, he looked dejected as he sat in his easy-chair, and Carrissima could not help feeling sorry for him in one way, although she was profoundly thankful that he had been saved, in spite of himself, from a marriage which could scarcely have failed to turn out miserably.

“I suppose,” said Carrissima, “I ought to send some sort of wedding present?”

“Send a wedding present!  Of course!  Why not?” answered Colonel Faversham, eager above all things to keep her for ever ignorant of his own engagement.  “Better go to Donaldson’s,” he added.

“There’s not much time to lose,” suggested Carrissima.  “I think I will go to-morrow morning.”

“Upon my word,” said her father, “I should rather like to get away for a bit.”

“Oh, so should I!” was the answer.

“You wouldn’t care to cut into the season!”

“I really shouldn’t mind a scrap,” said Carrissima.

She was inclined to feel that she did not much care about anything, and the news of Bridget’s betrothal seemed to intensify her own disappointment.

“Would next week be too soon?” asked Colonel Faversham, and she promised to be ready by its end.  He began at once to interest himself in the trip; they were to go abroad, and having fetched some old volumes of Baedeker from the smoking-room, he grew more cheerful than Carrissima had seen him for some days.

The next morning she spent an hour and a half at Donaldson’s, inspecting various gold and silver articles, but at last selecting nothing more original than a large rose-bowl.  On her way home, close to Golfney Place, she met Mark, and wondered whether she should stop if he showed no sign of doing so.  She had never passed him by before, and in spite of a lingering sense of injustice, and even indignation, she had not the heart to let him go on without a word.  She felt confident, however, that he would not have spoken if she had not taken the matter out of his hands.

“Have you heard the latest news?” asked Carrissima, as he raised his hat.

“About Jimmy and Bridget—­yes, I was immensely glad to have a visit from him late last night.”

“I have just been choosing a wedding present at Donaldson’s,” said Carrissima.