was his reason."

"Barefaced!" shouted the colonel. "The fact is Jimmy Clynesworth has
never been the same since his sunstroke. Bridget," he added, "I should
like to keep you entirely to myself. I should like----"

What his precise desire might be Bridget was not destined on the
present occasion to hear. He suddenly stopped in the middle of his
sentence, gazing at her with horror and alarm in his face. Covering
hers, she had incontinently broken down, and her body shook with the
violence of her sobs. Colonel Faversham found his feet so hastily that
he could not suppress an exclamation as he stooped to rub his knee. He
knew neither what to say nor how to act.

"What's the matter with you?" he demanded. "Tell me what it is. Only
let me know. What more can a man ask?"

"Oh, it is nothing," said Bridget amidst her tears. "Only that I am
the most miserable woman in the world."

Although he did his best, he could not succeed in tranquilizing her,
and finally went away, leaving her in the most despondent mood. Alone
in his smoking-room the same evening, Colonel Faversham did his utmost
to arrive at some explanation of Bridget's passionate outburst of grief.

Could it be possible she was distressed at the sight of his
disapproval. He ought to keep a firmer rein on his temper! He must
remember that Bridget was a delicate girl, and treat her with the
kindness she deserved.

This more satisfactory explanation, however, did not prove entirely
convincing. She might be unhappy because she repented of her promise;
well, in any event he intended to keep her to it! She could scarcely
think of breaking her engagement on Jimmy's account! She had spoilt
herself for that. Colonel Faversham, as she must know, was not the man
to stand silently by while she transferred herself to a younger
aspirant. She had sense enough to understand, too, that Jimmy had only
to hear of the existing engagement to retire from the competition.

As a matter of fact, Jimmy had no thought of drawing back. The
following Sunday morning the sun seemed to shine more brightly than
usual, and Bridget stood at one of the windows of her sitting-room,
looking out at the few passers-by on their way to the white-fronted
church farther along the street. Its bell was ringing cheerfully.

Until the last few years she had always lived in the country, and now
her thoughts flew back to earlier days, and she pictured the fields and
hedgerows, rememberi