On reaching the house Carrissima was disappointed to hear that Sybil
had gone away the previous morning.
"When do you expect her back?" asked Carrissima.
"I have no idea," said the butler; "but Mr. Clynesworth might know."
"Mr. Clynesworth is in London then?" cried Carrissima, and in fact, he
came out of the dining-room on the left of the hall the next moment.
The Favershams, the Drivers and the Clynesworths were old friends.
They had known each other from their earliest years, and the three boys
had gone to the same preparatory school at Brighton. Sybil,
considerably the oldest of the group, tried still to hope that Jimmy
would marry Carrissima, although for that matter, she would have
rejoiced to see him the husband of any woman whom she could love.
Jimmy Clynesworth was about thirty years of age; a little younger than
Lawrence Faversham, a little older than Mark Driver. In height he was
between them, a little above the average; not a tall man, certainly not
short, well built, but not noticeably broad-shouldered, and wearing
this afternoon a rough, darkish tweed suit, fitting him rather loosely.
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