"Ah well," answered the colonel, "it takes a great deal to astonish me. The more I know of the world the more extraordinary things I expect to hear." "It was about Bridget," said Carrissima. "What about her?" he demanded, turning in his chair to face his daughter. "Judging from the way she lives and dresses," Carrissima continued, "I always assumed she had plenty of money." "I hate to see a girl of your age mercenary," was the answer. "Good gracious, when I was two-and-twenty I never gave money a thought. I should never have dreamed of bothering myself about the amount of my friends' incomes. I don't now for that matter. Always keep your heart young, Carrissima! I am as disinterested now as ever I was in my salad days, thank goodness! Odd where you get this calculating habit!" "I didn't know I was mercenary and calculating and all the rest of it," said Carrissima. "I thought, perhaps, you might feel interested to hear----" "To hear what?" cried Colonel Faversham. "If I had wished to learn the amount of Bridget's income I should simply have paid a shilling and gone to Somerset House to look at David Rosser's will. But I didn't. I've a mind above that sort of thing." "You wouldn't have got much information there," said Carrissima, "because Mr. Rosser left nothing. Bridget's money came from her mother." "How did you discover that?" asked Colonel Faversham. "Mark told me." "Has he seen Bridget?" the colonel exclaimed in some surprise, because he had spent the afternoon at Golfney Place and she had not for a wonder mentioned Mark's name. "Yes, he went after dinner last night," said Carrissima. "There's not the least shadow of doubt that she has been waiting to see whether he would ask her to marry him." "Scandal!" shouted Colonel Faversham indignantly. "Abominable scandal! How the devil is it possible you can know whether she expected Mark Driver to ask her to marry him or not?" "It is perfectly certain," said Carrissima, "that unless she marries somebody or other she will find herself without any money to live upon." Although Carrissima spoke after prolonged reflection, and considered that the peculiar circumstances of the case justified the means she was employing, she could not feel very pleased with herself. She disliked anything underhanded; but, then, she disliked the prospect of Bridget's becoming Mrs. Faversham still more. Instead, however, of causing Colonel Faversham to hold his hand, Carrissima merely succeeded in egging him on. Rising excitedly from his chair he stood glaring at her for a few moments, as if he were going to break into a torrent of abuse; but turning abruptly away he left the room, slamming the door behind him so that the house shook. Making his way down-stairs he sat up late in the smoking-room, and when at last he went to bed, found it impossible to sleep.