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 amicably, "where have you sprung from?"
"I went to Charteris Street," she returned. "What have you been doing
since eleven?"
"What have I been doing?" said Colonel Faversham, rubbing his palms
violently together. "Well, now, to tell you the truth, I've been out
on the spree! Such a glorious day! I couldn't resist the temptation.
A man at the club--I don't think you know him--Comberbatch--asked me to
share a taxi and run down to Richmond to lunch. Delightful in the
park. And the view from the Terrace! It made me long to go on the
river again."
"Why--why didn't you?" Carrissima faltered.
"Come, come, what are you dreaming of?" said Colonel Faversham, with
one of his boisterous laughs. "Picture my rowing in these clothes: a
frock coat!"
"Oh well," she returned, "I scarcely imagined you would row yourself."
"Not row myself!" he exclaimed. "Why shouldn't I, in the name of
goodness? Let me tell you I can pull a good oar still. If only I had
had my flannels! You seem to think I'm fit for nothing."
Colonel Faversham astonished Carrissima by rising from his chair and
taking off his coat. Removing the links from his shirt-cuff, he
solemnly turned back the sleeve, then clenching his fist, slowly raised
his forearm, looking the while so red in the face that she grew quite
alarmed.
"Feel that!" he said.
"I will take your word for it----"
"Kindly do as I ask you," he insisted, with his arm still bent. "I
can't stand like this all day."
Carrissima accordingly felt his biceps with her thumb and forefinger.
"As hard as wood," she said.
"Ah!" he answered, with a smile of relief and satisfaction, as he
turned down his shirtsleeve again; "I thought that would astonish you.
Not row myself!"
He was obviously in the highest spirits, and indeed he was still under
the influence of the intoxicating pleasures of the earlier part of the
day. Not that this had passed without some drawbacks. The present
which he had bought at Donaldson's had been the cause of considerable
cogitation. He was hampered by the fear that Bridget might regard what
he would like to bestow upon her as too significant, and in the end had
selected a handsome and costly crocodile-hide dressing-bag. It would
prove suitable for her honeymoon, and it was with not a little regret
that he felt bound to order the initials "B. R." to be engraved on the
gold stoppers of the bottles, instead of "B. F." The alteration could,
however, no doubt be made in due season.
Not wishing to open Carrissima's eyes unnecessarily soon, Colonel
Faversham gave instructions for the bag to be sent to Number 5, Golfney
Place, before half-past ten on Wednesday morning, and he felt deeply
disappointed when Bridget gently but firmly refused to accept it.
Incongruously enough, she was persuaded nevertheless to accompany him
to Richmond, and the drive at close quarters in the taxi-cab, the
_tête-à-tête_ meal, the bottle of champagne which Bridget scarcely
tasted, had, collectively and separately, inflamed Colonel Faversham to
the sticking-point. When they reached Golfney Place at half-past five,
another disappointment lay in store for him, inasmuch as she refused to
allow him to enter the house--she felt too tired after the drive! He
could come to-morrow, and, meantime, he might send for the dressing-bag.
She could be so tantalizing now and then, that it was easy to believe
she was scoffing at him. During the day she had more than once dragged
Mark's name into the conversation, and even Carrissima did not feel
more curious respecting their precise relationship than her father.
Notwithstanding his anxiety concerning the critic on his hearth, and
the more exacerbating one in Charteris Street, Colonel Faversham had
reached the end of his tether. This delightful girl, with her charming
ingenuousness, her high spirits, might actually become his wife in the
course of a few months.
A few months! She might be prevailed upon to marry him within the next
few weeks. What cause could there possibly be for delay? Surely he
was entitled to please himself! Absurd to imagine that a man of his
age must regulate his life to please a slip of a girl like Carrissima,
or a solemn young puritan like Lawrence!
When Colonel Faversham arrived at Golfney Place on Thursday morning,
Bridget was wearing a new frock; quite light, almost white, in fact,
and setting off her slender figure to the most admirable advantage.
How many new frocks he had seen her wearing, Colonel Faversham found it
difficult to count. The crocodile-hide dressing-bag stood ominously on
the table, and, by way of a greeting, she reminded him that he had been
asked to send for it.
"Confound the bag!" he retorted. "If you won't keep the thing, pitch
it in the dusthole. Bridget," he continued, standing close by her
side, "I want you to accept all I have in the world and myself into the
bargain. I am not going to blow my own trumpet. Thank goodness I was
never that sort of man! I wish I were a boy just because you're a
girl, but if you'll take me as I am, you'll make me the happiest man in
the world, and I'll do my best to see you never regret it."
"I shan't pretend that you've taken me entirely by surprise," said
Bridget.
"Surprise!" exclaimed Colonel Faversham. "No one could have shown much
more plainly what he wanted. There's not much shilly-shally about me.
For that matter, I made up my mind long ago----"
"Oh, but you really haven't known me very long," she suggested. "It
can't be more than a month since Mark went to Paris."
"I wish," said the colonel, "he had gone to Hades!"
"I know you are horridly jealous," she continued, "because you always
change the subject when I mention his name. I like Mark Driver
immensely!"
"Anyhow, I want to hear you say you like me better," said Colonel
Faversham.
She stood looking at him critically--and very tantalizingly--with her
head slightly on one side; and while he devoured her with his eyes,
Bridget slowly took a chair.
"But why should you try to make me say what isn't true?" she demanded.
"I hope it would be," urged Colonel Faversham.
"I am not at all certain," she said quietly. "It's a vastly important
question. It requires time for consideration."
"How long, for goodness' sake?"
"I really couldn't possibly tell you offhand. I shouldn't care to bind
myself."
"I am desperately impatient to bind you, though," answered Colonel
Faversham. "I would see to it we had a good time. There's no wish of
yours that shouldn't be gratified--in reason, you know."
"Haven't you discovered by this time how unreasonable I am?" she asked.
"Bridget, come now, be a good girl!" he murmured.
"That shows how little you know me," she returned, "because I'm not in
the least good."
"Well, well, call yourself what you please! Only have a little love
for me, and I don't care what the devil you are!" exclaimed Colonel
Faversham, and at that moment he meant precisely what he said.
"I am not certain I have," she cried, with a laugh. "You see that
whatever I may be I am candid. I don't think I have a particle of what
I suppose you mean by 'love' for any living being. Perhaps there's
something wanting in my constitution. I don't believe I shall ever be
capable of 'loving' anybody as long as I live."
"Good gracious," was the answer, "don't tantalize me. Why do you keep
me on tenterhooks? Say you will marry me, and we'll leave everything
else."
"I can't say so this morning," she insisted. "I can say that I won't
if you like."
"For heaven's sake, don't do that!" Colonel Faversham quite humbly
entreated.
"Then please don't bother me for an answer," she said, and, with all
her lightness, he realized that she had a will of her own. His only
consolation was that, if her word could be accepted, she had not given
her heart to Mark or any one else. Whether she was to be believed or
not, however, his infatuation remained unaffected. He had reached a
condition in which he longed for possession upon any terms whatsoever,
but since it was obvious that she did not intend to pledge herself this
morning, there was no help for it! He must be as little discontented
as possible to leave the question open for the present.
"Well, then," he suggested, "if I manage to bottle up my feelings for a
week or so, will you try to think favourably of me in the meantime?"
"Why, yes, of course I will," she answered. "But it must be distinctly
understood. I am as free as the wind! I have not promised anything."
Beyond this she could not be prevailed upon to go, but before he left
Golfney Place, she gratified him by consenting to keep the
dressing-bag. She thanked him, indeed, very charmingly; so that,
notwithstanding his rebuff, Colonel Faversham left the house
disappointed, it is true, but even more her slave than ever.