"Seventeen minutes to," said Mark, taking out his watch. "I hope no accident has happened," suggested Carrissima, and bringing forward a chair, he sat down close to her side. "One is reminded," she added, "of a certain evening when Lawrence and Phoebe waited for you--do you remember?" "Oh dear, yes," said Mark, passing a hand over his forehead. "Let us hope these people won't be quite so much behind as I was!" "Are you afraid of being bored?" asked Carrissima. "Or are you merely hungry?" "It seems a long time since I saw you last," he remarked. "Whose fault was that?" "My misfortune, anyhow," he admitted. "You had only to come to Grandison Square," said Carrissima. "You knew I was always on view!" They both lapsed into silence, thinking in common of his last visit to Colonel Faversham's, when, perhaps, neither of them had shown to the best advantage. "It's difficult to shut one's mind to facts," exclaimed Mark suddenly. "I fancy I have heard you protest that few things can be more misleading," she retorted. He sat leaning forward in his chair, close to Carrissima's, his arms resting on his knees. "Yes, that's all right," he said. "But I have sometimes to advise patients to submit to operations, thinking how I should hate the ordeal on my own account. I quite understand that the only way is often to shut one's eyes. Life seems to include a good many things which simply won't bear thinking about. One realizes the fact, yet goes on thinking of them just the same." "Well," murmured Carrissima, "you should try--you should try to mend your ways in the future." "Do you think you could do it?" he asked. "What?" asked Carrissima. "Shut your eyes!" "Mark!" she cried, after a pause. "Well?" he said. "Look----" She was leaning back with her eyes tightly closed; her little face puckered, and one hand resting on each arm of the chair. At the sight all Mark's hesitation fell away, and rising impulsively, he took her cheeks between his palms and kissed her lips. The touch of nature made them kin, but not within the tables of affinity. They might have reasoned with themselves for months longer in vain, but being thrown alone together, their feelings quickly found free play. It was true that Carrissima, although she may have hoped, and indeed she did devoutly hope for such a consummation, was in the sequel taken rather sharply by surprise. She had not anticipated this sudden _denouement_! The time for procrastination had passed, however, and as she opened her eyes she wound her arms about Mark's neck. "It must be nearly eight o'clock," she remarked, as she rose from her chair a few minutes later, going at once to look in the mirror which formed part of the overmantel. "Carrissima," said Mark, "I begin to suspect----" "What?" she demanded. "That this must be a put-up job!" "Oh, but Bridget would never dream of such a thing," said Carrissima.