"I understood it
was to be half-past seven."
"We always dine at eight," returned the parlour-maid, as she stirred
the fire. "If you wouldn't mind taking a chair," she added, "Mr. and
Mrs. Clynesworth will not be many minutes."
With that she left the room and shut the door, only to re-open it again
a few moments later, whereupon Mark Driver entered without any
announcement. To judge by appearances, he was far more astonished to
behold Carrissima than she to see him. For a second he stood stock
still just within the door, gazing down at her face in silence. It was
she who at last broke through the embarrassment, rising and offering
her hand.
"Good-evening, Mark!" she said.
"Good-evening," he replied, and then the conversation threatened to
languish.
"What," asked Carrissima, "do you imagine has become of our host and
hostess?"
"Goodness knows," said Mark. "There's obviously some mistake. Anyhow,
I was immensely surprised to see their other guest."
"Really!" cried Carrissima, sitting down again in an easy-chair. "I
don't quite see why!"
"The fact remains that I was," he answered, with the faintest of smiles.
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