Carrissima walked back to Grandison Square, feeling not a whit less jealous than she had set out. There seemed, it is true, something about Bridget Rosser to which she was scarcely accustomed in her own personal friends; something difficult to describe. It might be due to an innate ingenuousness, or, in part, to the quasi-Bohemian life she had probably lived during the last few years abroad. There seemed to be an absence of reticence; a kind of natural freedom which assuredly had a charm of its own, although some persons might not approve of it--Lawrence, for one! He came to Grandison Square the same evening, entering the drawing-room still wearing his heavy overcoat. "A bitter wind has sprung up," he said, standing close to the fire. "What a pity you took the trouble to turn out in it," suggested Carrissima, always rather inclined to resent his superintendence. "What have you been doing all day?" he asked. "You haven't given Phoebe a look in." "I went to Golfney Place this afternoon," was the answer. "Golfney Place----" "To renew my acquaintance with Bridget," said Carrissima. "Quite unnecessary!" retorted Lawrence. "Far better if you had stayed away." "Why?" demanded Carrissima. "Phoebe suggested going," said Lawrence; "but I wouldn't allow it for a moment." "It's certain," cried Carrissima, "that she is a standing example of the way not to treat a husband. How ridiculous to form a prejudice against any one you have never even seen." "If she had been the sort of woman I should like my wife to call upon," said Lawrence, "she wouldn't have allowed Mark to see her so often. A woman who lives alone! Why on earth couldn't you leave her to stew in her own juice? I don't wish to see my brother-in-law make an idiot of himself." "Anyhow," returned Carrissima, "it can't have been Mark's account that set you against her." "Oh, of course," exclaimed Lawrence, "Mark would swallow anything." "It is his business in life," said Carrissima, with a laugh, "to make other people swallow things, isn't it, Lawrence?" He went away dissatisfied, and the following Monday afternoon Bridget Rosser paid her first visit to Number 13, Grandison Square. Although her movements were even and unhurried, her appearance in her out-of-door garments was conspicuous. The brim of her hat struck Carrissima as being a shade wider than that of any one else, her dress closer about the ankles, while yet she wore it without a trace of anything that could be called vulgarity.