"I bought a card-case--silver," said Carrissima.

"Gun metal would have done just as well," suggested Lawrence.

"When I asked the man to engrave Bridget's initials on it," said
Carrissima, "he knew what they were without being told. He knew her
number in Golfney Place too!"

"Ah, then father had been there before you!" exclaimed Lawrence.

"Yes," answered Carrissima, "and he has taken her to Richmond to lunch!"

"What did I tell you?" said Lawrence.

"Oh, please don't tell me again," entreated Carrissima. "What is the
use?"

"A pity you didn't think of all this," he persisted, "before you took
the woman up. I knew what she was. I told Phoebe."

"What nonsense," said Carrissima. "As if any human being could have
imagined she would dream of marrying father that night Mark told us he
had met her again."

"Well," cried Lawrence in his most weighty tone, "we may see something
when Mark comes back from Paris. Odd that he hasn't written to Phoebe
once since he went away--his only sister! Mark may upset the apple
cart yet. It's certain he was pretty far gone, and I don't suppose she
cares whom she marries, as long as he has a decent income. It's true
she would naturally prefer a husband who is not likely to live many
years."

"Oh, Lawrence!" expostulated Phoebe. "How can you talk like that. He
doesn't mean what he says, Carrissima."

"Indeed I do," he answered. "I am a man of the world."

"Still," said Carrissima, "you needn't be a man of the flesh and the
devil!"

"Anyhow," returned Lawrence, "we shall see what happens when Mark comes
back."

"One thing is certain," said Carrissima, "nothing on earth would induce
me to live at home if father were to marry Bridget."

"As if you could live anywhere else. Where could you go?"

"I shouldn't stay there!" said Carrissima.

"The idea of a girl of your age setting up on her own is ridiculous,"
was the reply. "As bad as the other woman! You have made your bed and
you will have to lie on it."

"Ah, well!" said Carrissima, "it won't be at Number 13, Grandison
Square."

CHAPTER VIII

A PROPOSAL

"Has Colonel Faversham returned?" asked Carrissima when Knight opened
the door.

"The colonel is in the smoking-room," was the answer, and she went
there at once. He was leaning back in an easy-chair, with his feet on
the fender, a cigar between his lips, and an unusually benignant
expression on his face.

"Well, Carrissima," he inquired amic