"Why not?" he demanded. "Why shouldn't you have a motor-car? I often
wonder I've never gone in for one before now. Bridget, there are few
things you shan't have when once you're my wife."
She leaned back in her chair, biting her nether lip, and every now and
then glancing reflectively at the colonel, as if in hesitation.
"Such a delightful ride!" she cried a few minutes later.
"Eh--what--when?" he said.
"This morning, of course. Jimmy took me by surprise. He called for me
shortly after eleven. I couldn't resist going. We went through some
of the loveliest Surrey villages."
"What about lunch?" asked Colonel Faversham, with difficulty bottling
up his wrath.
"Oh, we stopped at the sweetest little inn that seemed to be miles away
from everywhere and everybody. Of course, we hadn't much time to
spare."
That was one consolation, and Bridget's candour was another;
nevertheless. Colonel Faversham found his Sunday afternoon quite
spoilt, and finally left Golfney Place in a humour to make things a
little uncomfortable for any one who crossed his path. He was
beginning to notice that Mark Driver came to Grandison Square somewhat
often, and seeing Carrissima wearing her hat and jacket a few
afternoons later the colonel asked where she was going.
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