"If I don't go I shall be late for dinner," exclaimed Carrissima hastily, and a few minutes later she was on the way to Aberdeen Mansion in a hired brougham. Reaching the block of flats two minutes before the clock struck half-past seven, Carrissima went up to the second floor in the lift, pressed the bell button and was at once admitted by Jimmy's man. A tall parlour-maid met her in the hall, and took her to a bedroom, where Carrissima removed her cloak. "Will you come this way?" said the parlour-maid, and led her to a miniature drawing-room which, to Carrissima's astonishment, was empty. "I am very sorry," the girl continued, in response to an inquiring glance, "but Mr. and Mrs. Clynesworth have not come in yet." "Can I have made a mistake in the day?" said Carrissima. "Are you certain Mrs. Clynesworth expected me this evening?" "Yes," was the answer, given with some hesitation. "At what time?" "Dinner is ordered for eight o'clock," said the parlour-maid. "Oh, then that accounts for it," cried Carrissima. "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. "Were you also pleased, by any chance?" "Suppose we say I was--well, dazzled," said Mark, drawing closer to her chair. "The simple explanation must be," returned Carrissima, with a tremor in her voice, "that Bridget said eight, and we understood half-past seven." "In that event we must have been dreaming!" "But then," she suggested, "it isn't likely that two persons would dream the same thing, is it?" "Oh well, I'm not certain," said Mark, and he rested a hand on the arm of her chair. "You see, Bridget invited me when I was here last week," Carrissima explained. "I might easily have made a blunder." "She wrote to me," was the answer. "I have it in black and white. There's no getting out of that." "It must be a quarter to eight!" Carrissima suggested.