"It's about Bridget."
"What has she been doing?" asked Phoebe.
"You remember she told us that to-day would be her birthday?"
"The most barefaced hint I ever heard in my life," said Lawrence.
"Well, I thought I would take her a small present----"
"A pity you can't hold yourself in a little more," was the answer.
"You must gush!"
"Anyhow," Carrissima continued quite humbly, "I went to
Donaldson's--Phoebe, I saw the duckiest little opal brooch. I was half
tempted----"
"For goodness' sake get along with the story!" cried Lawrence fretfully.
"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.
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