Patricia Brent, spinster

PINS i PR

:; ' N O J j-jIX.

y the author of
I

n

PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

WHAT THIS STORY IS ABOUT

Patricia Brent is a "paying guest" at
the Galvin House Residential Hotel. One
day she overhears two of her fellow "guests"
pitying her because she " never has a nice
young man to take her out."

In a thoughtless moment of anger she
announced that on the following night she
is dining at the Quadrant with her fiance.
When in due course she enters the grill-
room, she finds some of Galvin Houseites
there to watch her. Rendered reckless by
the thought of the humiliation of being
found out, she goes up to a young staff-
officer, and asks him to help her by
"playing up."

This is how she meets Lt.-Col. Lord
Peter Bowen, D.S.O. The story is a comedy
concerned with the complications that
ensue from Patricia's thoughtless act.

PATRICIA
BR ENT,
SPINSTER

BY
HERBERT JENKINS

HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
3 YORK STREET, LONDON S.W.i

A

HERBERT

JENKINS'

BOOK

Fifteenth printing completing 153,658 copiet

MADE AND PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BT
PCKKELL AND SONS, FAULTON (SOMERSET) AND LONDOH

CONTENTS

CHAF7BI HO*

I. PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION » » • i

II. THE BONSOR-TRIGGS' MENAGE . * 14

III. THE ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT GRILL-ROOM 27

IV. THE MADNESS or LORD PETER BOWEN . . 43
V. PATRICIA'S REVENGE , . 58

VI. THE INTERVENTION or AUNT ADELAIDE . . 73

VII. LORD PETER PROMISES A SOLUTION . . 95

VIII. LORD PETER'S S.O.S. . . . 106

IX. LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND . . . nS

X. Miss BRENT'S STRATEGY . . .131

XI. THE DETECTION or MR. TRIGGS . . . 143

XII. A BOMBSHELL. . . , . 159

XIII. A TACTICAL BLUNDEK . . . 180

XIV. GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD . . . 189
XV. MR. TRMGS TAKES TEA IN KENSINGTON GARDENS 205

XVI. PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY . . . 227

XVII. LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND . . . 246

XVIII- THE AIR RAID . . . a6c

XIX. GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID . . .274

XX. A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD . . . aSd

XXI. THE GREATEST INDISCRETION . . .301

PATRICIA BRENT,
SPINSTER

CHAPTER I
PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION

SHE never has anyone to take her out, and
goes nowhere, and yet she can't be more
than twenty -seven, and really she's not
bad-looking."

" It's not looks that attract men," there was a
note of finality in the voice ; " it's something
else." The speaker snapped off her words in a
tone that marked extreme disapproval.

" What else ? " enquired the other voice.

" Oh, it's — well, it's something not quite nice,"
replied the other voice darkly, " the French call it
being trls femme. However, she hasn't got it."

' Well, I feel very sorry for her and her loneli-
ness. I am sure she would be much happier if she
had a nice young man of her own class to take her
about."

Patricia Brent listened with flaming cheek?
She felt as if someone had struck her. She recog-

^ PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
nised herself as the object of the speakers' com-
ments. She could not laugh at the words, because
they were true. She was lonely, she had no men
friends to take her about, and yet, and yet

" Twenty-seven," she muttered indignantly,
" and I was only twenty-four last November."

She identified the two speakers as Miss Elizabeth
Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe.

Miss Wangle was the great-niece of a bishop, and
to have a bishop in heaven is a great social asset on
earth. This ecclesiastical distinction seemed to
give her the right of leadership at the Galvin
House Residential Hotel. Whenever a new
boarder arrived, the unfortunate bishop was
disinterred and brandished before his eyes.

One facetious young man in the " commercial
line " had dubbed her " the body-snatcher," and,
being inordinately proud of his jeu d' esprit, he had
worn it threadbare, and Miss Wangle had got to
know of it. The result was the sudden departure
of the wit. Miss Wangle had intimated to Mrs.
Craske-Morton, the proprietress, that if he remained
she would go. Mrs. Craske-Morton considered that
Miss Wangle gave tone to Galvin House.

Miss Wangle was acid of speech and barren of
pity Scandal and "the dear bishop" were her
chief preoccupations. She regularly read The
Morning Post, which she bought, and The Times,
which she borrowed. In her attitude towards
royalty she was a Jacobite, and of the aristocracy
she knew no wrong.

PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION 3

Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe was Miss Wangle's toady;
but she wrapped her venom in Christian charity,
thus making herself the more dangerous of the
two.

At Galvin House none dare gainsay these two in
their pronouncements. They were disliked ; but
more feared than hated. During the Zeppelin
scare Mr. Bolton, who was the humorist of Galvin
House, had fixed a notice to the drawing-room
door, which read : " Zeppelin commanders are
requested to confine their attentions to rooms
8 and 18." Rooms 8 and 18 were those occupied
by Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe.
There had been a great fuss about this harmless
and rather feeble joke ; but fortunately for Mr.
Bolton, he had taken care to pin his jest on the
door when no one was looking, and he took the
additional precaution of being foremost in his
denunciation of the bad taste shown by the person
responsible for the jest.

Patricia Brent was coming downstairs in
response to the dinner-gong, when, through the
partly open door of the lounge, she overheard the
amiable remarks concerning herself. She passed
quietly into the dining-room and took her seat at
the table in silence, mechanically acknowledging
the greetings of her fellow-guests.

At Galvin House the word " guest " was in-
sisted upon. Mrs. Craske-Morton, in announcing
the advent of a new arrival, reached the pinnacle
of refinement. " We have another guest coming,"

4 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

she would say, "a most interesting man," or
"a very cultured woman," as the case might be.
When the man arrived without his interest, or
the woman without her culture, no one was dis-
appointed , for no one had expected anything.
The conventions had been observed and that was
all that mattered.

Dinner at Galvin House was rather a dismal
affair. The separate tables heresy, advocated by
a progressive-minded guest, had been once and for
all discouraged by Miss Wangle, who announced
that if separate tables were introduced she, for one,
would not stay.

" I remember the dear bishop once saying to
me," she remarked, " ' My dear, if people can't say
what they have to say at a large table and in the
hearing of others, then let it for ever remain un-
said/ "

" But if someone's dress is awry, or their hair is
not on straight, would you announce the fact to
the whole table ? " Patricia had questioned with
an innocence that was a little overdone.

Miss Wangle had glared ; for she wore the most
obvious auburn wig, which failed to convince any-
one, and served only to enhance the pallor of her
sharp features.

In consequence of the table arrangements, con-
versation during meal -times was general — and
dull. Mr. Bolton joked, Miss Wangle poured
vinegar on oily waters, Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe
" dripped with the oil of forbearance." Mr. Cordal

PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION 5

ate noisily, Miss Sikkum simpered and Mrs. Craske-
Morton strove to appear a real hostess enter-
taining real guests without the damning prefix
" paying."

The remaining guests, there were usually round
about twenty-five, looked as they felt they ought
to look, and never failed to show a befitting
reverence for Miss Wangle's ecclesiastical relic ;
for it was Miss Wangle who issued the social birth
certificates at Galvin House.

That evening Patricia was silent. Mr. Bolton
endeavoured to draw her out, but failed. As a rule
she was the first to laugh at his jokes in order " to
encourage the poor little man," as she expressed
it ; " for a man who is fat and bald and a bachelor
and thinks he's a humorist wants all the pity that
the world can lavish upon him."

Patricia glanced round the table, from Miss
Wangle, lean as a winter wolf, to Mrs. Mosscrop-
Smythe, fair, chubby and faded, and on to Mr.
Cordal, lantern-jawed and ravenous. " Were they
not all lonely — the left of God ? " Patricia asked
herself ; and yet two of these solitary souls had
dared to pity her, Patricia Brent. At least she had
something they did not possess — youth.

The more she thought of the words that had
drifted to her through the half-closed door of the
lounge, the more humiliating they appeared. Her
day had been particularly trying and she was tired.
She was in a mood to see a cyclone in a zephyr,
and in a ripple a gigantic wave. She looked about

6 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

her once more. What a fate to be cast among

such people !

The table appointments seemed more than
usually irritating that evening. The base metal
that peeped slyly through the silver of the forks
and spoons, the tapering knives, victims of much
cleaning, with their yellow handles, the salt-
cellars, the mustard, browning with three days' age
(mustard was replenished on Sundays only), the
anaemic ferns in " artistic " pots, every defect
seemed emphasized.

How she hated it ; but most of all the many-
shaped and multi-coloured napkin-rings, at Galvin
House known as " serviette-rings." Variety was
necessary to ensure each guest's personal interest
in one particular napkin. Did they ever get
mixed ? Patricia shuddered at the thought. At
the end of the week, a " serviette " had become a
sort of gastronomic diary. By Saturday evening
(new "serviettes" were served out on Sunday at
luncheon) the square of grey-white fabric had
many things recorded upon it ; but above all, like
a monarch dominating his subjects, was the in-
eradicable aroma of Monday's kipper.

On this particular evening Galvin House seemed
more than ever grey and depressing. Patricia
found herself wondering if God had really made all
these people in His own image. They seemed so
petty, so ungodlike. The way they regarded their
food, as it was handed to them, suggested that they
were for ever engaged in a comparison of what they

PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION 7

paid with what they received. Did God make
people in His own image and then leave the rest to
them ? Was that where free will came in ?

" lonely ! "

The word seemed to crash in upon her thoughts
with explosive force. Someone had used it — whom
she did not know, or in what relation. It brought
her back to earth and Galvin House. " Lonely,"
that was at the root of her depression. She was
an object of pity among her fellow-boarders. It
was intolerable ! She understood why girls " did
things " to escape from such surroundings and
such fox-pity.

Had she been a domestic servant she could have
hired a soldier, that is before the war. Had she
been a typist or a shop-girl — well, there were the
park and tubes and things where gallant youth
approached fair maiden. No, she was just a girl
who could not do these things, and in consequence
became the pitied of the Miss Wangles and the
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythes of Bayswater.

She was quite content to be manless, she did not
like men, at least not the sort she had encountered.
There were Boltons and Cordals in plenty. There
were the " Haven't-we-met-before ? " kind too, the
hunters who seemed cheerfully to get out at the
wrong station, or pay twopence on a bus for a
penny fare in order to pursue some face that had
attracted their roving eye.

She sighed involuntarily at the ugliness of it all,
this cheapening of the things worthy of reverence

8 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

and respect. She looked across at Miss Sikkum,
whose short skirts and floppy hats had involved
her in many unconventional adventures that one
glance at her face had corrected as if by magic.
A back view of Miss Sikkum was deceptive.

Suddenly Patricia made a resolve. Had she
paused to think she would have seen the danger ;
but she was by nature impulsive, and the conversa-
tion she had overheard had angered and humiliated
her.

Her resolve synchronised with the arrival of the
sweet stage. Turning to Mrs. Craske-Morton she
remarked casually, "I shall not be in to dinner to-
morrow night, Mrs. Morton."

Mrs. Craske-Morton always liked her guests to
tell her when they were not likely to be in to
dinner. " It saves the servants laying an extra
cover," she would explain. As a matter of fact it
saved Mrs. Craske-Morton preparing for an extra
mouth.

If Patricia had hurled a bomb into the middle of
the dining-table, she could not have attracted to
herself more attention than by her simple remark
that she was not dining at Galvin House on the
morrow.

Everybody stopped eating to stare at her. Miss
Sikkum missed her aim with a trifle of apple
charlotte, and spent the rest of the evening in
endeavouring to remove the stain from a pale blue
satin blouse, which in Brixton is known as " a Paris
model." It was Miss Wangle who broke the silence.

PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION 9

"How interesting," she said. ' We shall quite
miss you, Miss Brent. I suppose you are working
late."

The whole table waited for Patricia's response
with breathless expectancy.

" No ! " she replied nonchalantly.

" I know," said Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, in her
even tones, and wagging an admonitory finger at
her. " You're going to a revue, or a music-hall."

" Or to sow her wild oats," added Mr. Bolton.

Then some devil took possession of Patricia.
She would give them something to talk about for
the next month. They should have a shock.

"No," she replied indifferently, attracting to her-
self the attention of the whole table by her deliber-
ation. "No, I'm not going to a revue, a music-hall,
or to sow my wild oats. As a matter of fact," she
paused. They literally hung upon her words. "As
a matter of fact I am dining with my fiance"."

The effect was electrical. Miss Sikkum stopped
dabbing the front of her Brixton " Paris model."
Miss Wangle dropped her pince-nez on the edge of
her plate and broke the right-hand glass. Mr.
Cordal, a heavy man who seldom spoke, but
enjoyed his food with noisy gusto, actually ex-
claimed, "What?" Almost without exception
the others repeated his exclamation.

" Your fiance" ? " stuttered Miss Wangle.

" But, dear Miss Brent," said Mrs. Mosscrop-
Smythe, "you never told us that you were engaged."

" Didn't I ? " enquired Patricia indifferently.

io PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" And you don't wear a ring," interposed Miss
Sikkum eagerly.

" I hate badges of servitude," remarked Pat-
ricia with a laugh.

" But an engagement ring," insinuated Miss
Sikkum with a self-conscious giggle.

" One is freer without a ring," replied Patricia.

Miss Wangle's jaw dropped.

" Marriages are " she began.

" Made in heaven. I know," broke in Patricia,
" but you try wearing Turkish slippers in London,
Miss Wangle, and you'll soon want to go back to
the English boots. It's silly to make things in one
place to be worn in another ; they never fit."

Mrs. Craske-Morton coughed portentously.

" Really, Miss Brent," she exclaimed.

Whenever conversation seemed likely to take an
undesirable turn, or she foresaw a storm threaten-
ing, Mrs. Craske-Morton's " Really, Mr. So-and-
so " invariably guided it back into a safe channel.

" But do they ? " persisted Patricia. " Can
you, Mrs. Morton, seriously regard marriage in this
country as a success ? It's all because marriages
are made in heaven without taking into considera-
tion our climatic conditions."

Miss Wangle had lost the power of speech. Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe was staring at Patricia as if she
had been something strange and unclean upon
which her eyes had never hitherto lighted. In the
eyes of little Mrs. Hamilton, a delightfully French
type of old lady, there was a gleam of amusement,

PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION II

Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe was the first to recover the
power of speech.

' Is your fiance" in the army ? "

" Yes," replied Patricia desperately. She had
long since thrown over all caution.

" Oh, tell us his name," giggled Miss Sikkum.

" Brown," said Patricia.

" Is his knapsack number 99 ? " enquired Mr.
Bolton.

" He doesn't wear one," said Patricia, now
thoroughly enjoying herself.

" Oh, he's an officer, then," this from Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe.

"Is he a first or a second lieutenant ? " en-
quired Mrs. Craske-Morton.

" Major," responded Patricia laconically.

" What's he in ? " was the next question.

" West Loamshires."

" What battalion ? " enquired Miss Wangle,
who had now regained the power of speech. " I
have a cousin in the Fifth."

" I am sure I can't remember," said Patricia, " I
never could remember numbers."

" Not remember the number of the battalion
in which your fianc6 is ? " There was incredulous
disapproval in Miss Wangle's voice.

" No ! I'm awfully sorry," replied Patricia,
" I suppose it's very horrid of me ; but I'll go up-
stairs and look it up if you like."

"Oh please don't trouble," said Miss Wangle icily.
" I remember the dear bishop once saying "

12 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" And I suppose after dinner you'll go to a
theatre," interrupted Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, for
the first time in the memory of the oldest guest
indifferent to the bishop and what he had said,
thought, or done.

" Oh, no, it's war time," said Patricia, " we shall
just dine quietly at the Quadrant Grill-room."

A meaning glance passed between Mrs. Mosscrop-
Smythe and Miss Wangle. Why she had fixed
upon the Quadrant Grill-room Patricia could not
have said.

" And now," said Patricia, " I must run up-
stairs and see that my best bib and tucker are in
proper condition to be worn before my fiance".
I'll tell him what you say about the ring. Good
night, everybody, if we don't meet again."

" Patricia Brent," admonished Patricia to her
reflection in the looking-glass, as she brushed her
hair that night, " you're a most unmitigated little
liar. You've told those people the wickedest of
wicked lies. You've engaged yourself to an un-
known major in the British Army. You're going
to dine with him to-morrow night, and heaven
knows what will be the result of it all. A single lie
leads to so many. Oh, Patricia, Patricia ! " she
nodded her head admonishingly at the reflection
in the glass. " You're really a very wicked young
woman." Then she burst out laughing. " At
least, I have given them something to talk about,
any old how. By now they've probably come to
the conclusion that I'm a most awful rip."

PATRICIA'S INDISCRETION 13

Patricia never confessed it to herself, but she
was extremely lonely. Instinctively shy of
strangers, she endeavoured to cover up her self-
consciousness by assuming an attitude of non-
chalance, and the result was that people saw only
the artificiality. She had been brought up in the
school of " men are beasts," and she took no
trouble to disguise her indifference to them. With
women she was more popular. If anyone were ill
at Galvin House, it was always Patricia Brent who
ministered to them, sat and read to them, and
cheered them through convalescence back to
health.

Her acquaintance with men had been almost
entirely limited to those she had found in the
various boarding-houses, glorified in the name of
residential hotels, at which she had stayed. Five
years previously, on the death of her father, a
lawyer in a small country town, she had come to
London and obtained a post as secretary to a
blossoming politician. There she had made her-
self invaluable, and there she had stayed, perform
ing the same tasks day after day, seldom going out,
since the war never at all, and living a life calcu-
lated to make an acid spinster of a Venus or a
Juno.

" Oh, bother to-morrow ! " said Patricia as she
got into bed that night; "it's a long way off and
perhaps something will happen before then," and
with that she switched off the light.

CHAPTER II

THE BONSOR-TRIGGS' MENAGE

THE next morning Patricia awakened with
a feeling that something had occurred in
her life. For a time she lay pondering as
to what it could be. Suddenly memory came with
a flash, and she smiled. That night she was dining
out ! As suddenly as it had come the smile faded
from her lips and eyes, and she mentally apostro-
phised herself as a little idiot for what she had
done. Then, remembering Miss Wangle's remark
and the expression on Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe's
face, the lines of her mouth hardened, and there
was a determined air about the tilt of her chin.
She smiled again.

" Patricia Brent ! No, that won't do," she
broke off. Then springing out of bed she went
over to the mirror, adjusted the dainty boudoir
cap upon her head and, bowing elaborately to her
reflection, said, " Patricia Brent, I invite you to
dine with me this evening at the Quadrant Grill-
room. 1 hope you'll be able to come. How delight-
ful. We shall have a most charming time." Then
she sat on the edge of the bed and pondered.

Of course she would have to come back radiantlv

THE BONSOK-TR1GGS' MENAGE 15
happy, girls who have been out with their fiance's
always return radiantly happy. " That will mean
two crimes de menthes instead of one, that's another
shilling, perhaps two," she murmured. Then
she must have a good dinner or else the crime de
menthe would get into her head, that would mean
about seven shillings more. " Oh ! Patricia,
Patricia," she wailed, " you have let yourself in
for an expense of at least ten shillings, the point
being is a major in the British Army worth an
expenditure of ten shillings ? We shall "

She was interrupted by the maid knocking at
the door to inform her that it was her turn for the
bath-room.

As Patricia walked across the Park that morn-
ing on her way to Eaton Square, where the poli-
tician lived who employed her as private secretary
whilst he was in the process of rising, she pondered
over her last night's announcement. She was con-
vinced that she had acted foolishly, and in a way
that would probably involve her in not only ex-
pense, but some trouble and inconvenience.

At the breakfast-table the conversation had
been entirely devoted to herself, her fianc6, and
the coming dinner together. Miss Wangle, Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe, and Miss Sikkum, supported
by Mrs Craske-Morton, had returned to the
charge time after time. Patricia had taken refug
in her habitual breakfast silence and, finding that
they could draw nothing from her her fellow-
guests had proceeded to discuss the matter among

r6 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
themselves. It was with a feeling of relief that
Patricia rose from the table.

There was an east wind blowing, and Patricia
had always felt that an east wind made her a
materialist. This morning she was depressed ;
there was in her heart a feeling that fate had not
been altogether kind to her. Her childhood had
been spent in a small town on the East Coast under
the care of her father's sister who, when Mrs.
Brent died, had come to keep house for Mr. John
Brent and take care of his five-year-old daughter.
In her aunt Patricia found a woman soured by life.
What it was that had soured her Patricia could
never gather ; but Aunt Adelaide was for ever
emphasizing the fact that men were beasts.

Later Patricia saw in her aunt a disappointed
woman. She could remember as a child examining
with great care her aunt's hard features and
angular body, and wondering if she had ever been
pretty, and if anyone had kissed her because they
wanted to and not because it was expected of
them

The lack of sympathy between aunt and niece
had driven Patricia more and more to seek her
father's companionship. He was a silent man,
little given to emotion or demonstration of affec-
tion. He loved Patricia, but lacked the faculty of
conveying to her the knowledge of his love.

As she walked across the Park Patricia came
to the conclusion that, for some reason or other,
love, or the outward visible signs of love, had been

THE BONSOR-TRIGG'S MENAGE 17
denied her. Warm-hearted, impetuous spon-
taneous, she had been chilled by the self-repression
of her father, and the lack of affection of her aunt.
She had been schooled to regard God as the God of
punishment rather than the God of love. One of her
most terrifying recollections was that of the Sun-
days spent under the paternal roof. To her father,
religion counted for nothing ; but to her aunt it
counted for everything in the world ; the hereafter
was to be the compensation for renunciation in this
world. Miss Brent's attitude towards prayer was
that of one who regards it as a means by which she
is able to convey to the Almighty what she ex-
pects of Him in the next world as a reward for
what she has done, or rather not done, in this.

Patricia had once asked, in a childish moment
of speculation, " But, Aunt Adelaide, suppose God
doesn't make us happy in the next world, what
shall we do then ? "

" Oh ! yes He will," was her aunt's reply, uttered
with such grimness that Patricia, though only six
years of age, had been satisfied that not even God
would dare to disappoint Aunt Adelaide.

Patricia had been a lonely child. She had come
to distrust spontaneity and, in consequence, be-
came shy and self-conscious, with the inevitable
result that other children, the few who were in
Aunt Adelaide's opinion fit for her to associate
with, made it obvious that she was one by herself.
Patricia had fallen back on her father's library,
where she had read many books that would have

i8 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
caused her aunt agonies of stormy anguish, had
she known.

Patricia early learnt the necessity for dissimu-
lation. She always carefully selected two books,
one that she could ostensibly be reading if her
aunt happened to come into the library, and the
other that she herself wanted to read, and of
which she knew her aunt would strongly dis-
approve.

Miss Brent regarded boarding-schools as " hot-
beds of vice," and in consequence Patricia was
educated at home, educated in a way that she
would never have been at any school ; for Miss
Brent was thorough in everything she undertook.
The one thing for which Patricia had to be grate-
ful to her aunt was her general knowledge, and the
sane methods adopted with her education. But
for this she would not have been in the position to
accept a secretaryship to a politician.

When Patricia was twenty-one her father had
died, and she inherited from her mother an an-
nuity of a hundred pounds a year. Her aunt had
suggested that they should live together ; but
Patricia had announced her intention of working,
and with the money that she realised from the sale
of her father's effects, particularly his library,
she came to London and underwent a course of
training in shorthand, typewriting, and general
secretarial work. This was in March, 1914. Bp.-
fore she was ready to undertake a post, the war
broke out upon Europe like a cataclysm, and a few

THE BONSOR-1R1GGS' MENAGE 19
months later Patricia had obtained a pos* as
private secretary to Mr. Arthur Bonsor, M.P.

Mr. Bonsor was the victim of marriage. Destiny
had ordained that he should spend his life in golf
and gardening, or in breeding earless rabbits and
stingless bees. He was bucolic and passive. Mrs.
Bonsor, however, after a slight altercation with
Destiny, had decided that Mr. Bonsor was to be-
come a rising politician. Thus it came about that,
pushed on from behind by Mrs. Bonsor and led by
Patricia, whose general knowledge was of the
greatest possible assistance to him, Mr. Bonsor
was in the elaborate process of rising at the time
when Patricia determined to have a fiance.

Mr. Bonsor was a small, fair-haired man, pre-
maturely bald, an indifferent speaker ; but excel-
lent in committee. Instinctively he was gentle
and kind. Mrs. Bonsor disliked Patricia and
Patricia was indifferent to Mrs. Bonsor. Mrs.
Bonsor, however, recognised that in Patricia her
husband had a remarkably good secretary, one
whom it would be difficult to replace.

Mrs. Bonsor's attitude to everyone who was not
in a superior position to herself was one of patron-
age. Patricia she looked upon as an upper servant,
although she never dare show it. Patricia, on the
other hand, showed very clearly that she had no
intention of being treated other than as an equal
by Mrs. Bonsor, and the result was a sort of armed
neutrality. They seldom met ; when by chance
they encountered each other in the house Mrs.

20 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Bonsor would say, " Good morning, Miss Brent ;
1 hope you walked across the Park." Patricia
would reply, " Yes, most enjoyable ; I invariably
walk across the Park when I have time " ; and
with a forced smile Mrs. Bonsor would say, " That
is very wise of you."

Never did Mrs. Bonsor speak to Patricia without
enquiring if she had walked across the Park. One
day Patricia anticipated Mrs. Bonsor's inevitable
question by announcing, " I walked across the
Park this morning, Mrs. Bonsor, it was most
delightful," and Mrs. Bonsor had glared at her,
but, remembering Patricia's value to her husband,
had made a non-committal reply and passed on.
Henceforth, Mrs. Bonsor dropped all reference to
the Park.

On the first day of Patricia's entry into the
Bonsor household, Mrs. Bonsor had remarked,
" Of course you will stay to lunch," and Patricia
had thanked her and said she would. But when
she found that her luncheon was served on a tray
in the library, where Mr. Bonsor did his work,
she had decided that henceforth exercise in the
middle of the day was necessary for her, and
she lunched out.

Mr. Bonsor had married beneath him. His
father, a land-poor squire in the north of England,
had impressed upon all his sons that money was
essential as a matrimonial asset, and Mr. Bonsor,
not having sufficient individuality to starve for
love, had determined to follow the parental decree.

THE BONSOR-TRIGGS' MENAGE 21
How he met Miss Triggs, the daughter of the
prosperous Streatham builder and contractor,
Samuel Triggs, nobody knew, but his father had
congratulated him very cordially about having
contrived to marry her. Miss Triggs's friends to
a woman were of the firm conviction that it
was Miss Triggs who had married Mr. Bonsor.
' 'Ettie's so ambitious." remarked her father soon
after the wedding, " that it's almost a relief to
get 'er married."

Mr. Bonsor was scarcely back from his honey-
moon before he was in full possession of the fact
that Mrs. Bonsor had determined that he should
become famous. She had read how helpful many
great men's wives had been in their career, and
she determined to be the power behind the in-
determinate Arthur Bonsor. Poor Mr. Bonsor,
who desired nothing better than a peaceable life
and had looked forward to a future of ease and
prosperity when he married Miss Triggs, dis-
covered when too late that he had married not so
much Miss Triggs, as an abstract sense of ambition.
Domestic peace was to be purchased only by an
attitude of entire submission to Mrs. Bonsor's
schemes. He was not without brains, but he
lacked that impetus necessary to " getting on."
Mrs. Bonsor, who was not lacking in shrewdness,
observed this and determined that she herself
would be the impetus.

Mr. Bonsor came to dread meal-times, that is
meal-times tete-d-UU. During these symposiums

22 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
he was subjected to an elaborate cross-examina-
tion as to what he was doing to achiev e greatness.
Mrs. Bonsor insisted upon his being present at
every important function to which he could gain
admittance, particularly the funerals of the illus-
trious great. Egged on by her he became an
inveterate writer of letters to the newspapers,
particularly The Times. Sometimes his letters
appeared, which caused Mrs. Bonsor intense
gratification : but editors soon became shy of a
man who bombarded them with letters upon every
conceivable subject, from the submarine menace
to the question of " should women wear last
year's frocks ? "

Mr. Triggs had once described his daughter very
happily : ' ' 'Ettie's one of them that ain't content
with pressing a bell, but she must keep 'er thumb
on the bell-push." That was Mrs. Bonsor all over ;
she lacked restraint, both physical and artistic,
and she conceived that if you only make noise
enough people will, sooner or later, begin to take
notice.

Within three years of his marriage, Mr. Bonsoi
entered the House of Commons. He had first of
all fought in a Radical constituency and been
badly beaten , but the second time he had, by
some curious juggling of chance, been successful
in an almost equally strong Radical division,
much to the delight of Mrs. Bonsor. The success
had been largely due to her idea of flooding the
constituency with pretty girl-canvassers ; but she

THE BONSOR-TK1GGS* MENAGE 23
Aad been very careful to keep a watchful eye on
Mr. Bonsor.

One of her reasons for engaging Patricia, for
really Mrs. Bonsor was responsible for the engage-
ment, had been that she had decided that Patricia
was indifferent to men, and she decided that
Mr. Bonsor might safely be trusted with Patricia
Brent for long periods of secretarial communion.

Mr. Bonsor, although not lacking in suscepti-
bility, was entirely devoid of that courage which
subjugates the feminine heart. Once he had per-
mitted his hand to rest upon Patricia's ; but he
never forgot the look she gave him and, for weeks
after, he felt a most awful dog, and wondered if
Patricia would tell Mrs. Bonsor.

When she married, Mrs. Bonsor saw that it
would be necessary to drop her family, that is as
far as practicable. It could not be done entirely,
because her father was responsible for the allow-
ance which made it possible for the Bonsors to live
in Euton Square. The old man was not lacking in
shrewdness, and he had no intention of being
thrown overboard by his ambitious daughter. It
occasionally happened that Mr. Triggs would
descend upon the Bonsor household and, although
Mrs. Bonsor did her best to suppress him, that is
without in any way showing she was ashamed of
her parent, he managed to make Patricia's ac-
quaintance and, from that time, made a practice
of enquiring for and having a chat with her.

Mrs. Bonsor was grateful to providence for

24 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
having removed her mother previous to her
marriage. Mrs. Triggs had been a homely soul,
with a marked inclination to be " friendly." She
overflowed with good-humour, and was a woman
who would always talk in an omnibus, or join a
wedding crowd and compare notes with those
about her. She addressed Mr. Triggs as " Pa,"
which caused her daughter a mental anguish of
which Mrs. Triggs was entirely unaware. It was
not until Miss Triggs was almost out of her teens
that her mother was persuaded to cease calling
her " Girlie."

In Mrs. Bonsor the reforming spirit was deeply
ingrained ; but she had long since despaired of
being able to influence her father's taste in dress.
She groaned in spirit each time she saw him,
for his sartorial ideas were not those of Mayfair.
He leaned towards checks, rather loud checks
trousers that were tight about the calf, and a coat
that was a sporting conception of the morning
coat, with a large flapped pocket on either side.
He invariably wore a red tie and an enormous
watch-chain across his prosperous-looking figure.
His hat was a high felt, an affair that seemed to
have set out in life with the ambition of being a
top hat, but losing heart had compromised.

If Mrs. Bonsor dreaded her father's visits,
Patricia welcomed them. She was genuinely fond
of the old man. Mr. Triggs radiated happiness
from the top of his shiny bald head, with its fringe
of sandy-grey hair, to his square-toed boots that

THE BONSOR-TKIGGS' MENAGE 25
invariably emitted little squeaks of joy. He wore
a fringe of whiskers round his chubby face, other-
wise he was clean-shaven, holding that beards were
" messy " things. He had what Patricia called
" crinkly '' eyes, that is to say each time he smiled
there seemed to radiate from them hundreds of
little lines.

He always addressed Patricia as " me dear,"
and not infrequently brought her a box of choco-
lates, to the scandal of Mrs. Bonsor, who had once
expostulated with him that that was not the way
to treat her husband's secretary.

' Tut, tut, 'Ettie," had been Mr. Triggs's
response. " She's a fine gal. If I was a bit younger
I shouldn't be surprised if there was a second Mrs.
Triggs."

" Father ! " Mrs. Bonsor had expostulated in
horror. " Remember that she is Arthur's secre-
tary."

Mr. Triggs had almost choked with laughter ;
mirth invariably seemed to interfere with his
respiration and ended in violent and wheezy
coughings and gaspings. Had Mrs. Bonsor known
that he repeated the conversation to Patricia, she
would have been mortified almost to the point of
discharging her husband's secretary.

' You see, me dear," Mr. Triggs had once said
to Patricia, " 'Ettie's so busy bothering about
aitches that she's got time for nothing else. She
ain't exactly proud of her old father," he had
added shrewdly, " but she finds 'is brass a bit use-

26 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

ful." Mr. Triggs was under no delusion as to his

daughter's attitude towards him.

One day he had asked Patricia rather suddenly,
1 Why don't you get married, me dear ? "

Patricia had started and looked up at him
quickly. " Married, me, Mr. Triggs ? Oh ! I sup-
pose for one thing nobody wants me, and for
another I'm not in love."

Mr. Triggs had pondered a little over this.

" That's right, me dear ! " he said at length.
" Never you marry except you feel you can't 'elp
it, then you'll know it's the right one. Don't you
marry a chap because he's got a lot of brass. You
marry for the same reason that me and my missis
married, because we felt we couldn't do without
each other," and the old man's voice grew husky
" You wouldn't believe it, me dear, 'ow I miss 'er.
though she's been dead eight years next May."

Patricia had been deeply touched and, not know-
ing what to say, had stretched out her hand to the
old man, who took and held it for a moment in
his. As she drew her hand away she felt a tear
splash upon it, and it was not her own.

" Ever hear that song ' My Old Dutch ' ? " he
asked after a lengthy silence.
Patricia nodded.

"I used to sing it to 'er — God bless my soul !
what an old fool I'm gettin', talkin' to you in
this way. Now I must be gettin' off. Lor ! what
would 'Ettie say if she knew ? "
But Mrs. Bonsor did not know.

CHAPTER III

THE ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT GRILL-ROOM

THAT evening as Patricia looked in at the
lounge on the way to her room, she
found it unusually crowded. On a
normal day her appearance would scarcely
have been noticed ; but this evening it was
the signal for a sudden cessation in the buzz
of conversation, and all eyes were upon her. For
a moment she stood in the doorway and then, with
a nod and a smile, she turned and proceeded up-
stairs, conscious of the whispering that broke out
as soon as her back was turned.

As she stood before the mirror, wondering what
she should wear for the night's adventure, she
recalled a remark of Miss Wangle's that no really
nice-minded woman ever dressed in black and
white unless she had some ulterior motive. Upon
the subject of sex-attraction Miss Wangle posed
as an authority, and hinted darkly at things that
thrilled Miss Sikkum to ecstatic giggles, and Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe to pianissimo moans of anguish
that such things could be.

With great deliberation Patricia selected a black
charmeuse costume that Miss Wangle had already

» 27

28 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
confided to the whole of Galvin House was at
least two and a half inches too short ; but as
Patricia had explained to Mrs. Hamilton, if you
possess exquisitely fitting patent boots that come
high up the leg, it's a sin for the skirt to be too long.
She selected a black velvet hat with a large white
water-lily on the upper brim.

* You look bad enough for a vicar's daughter,"
she said, surveying herself in the glass as she
fastened a bunch of red carnations in her belt.
" White at the wrists and on the hat, yes, it looks
most improper. I wonder what the major-man
will think ? "

Swift movements, deft touches, earnest scrutiny
followed one another. Patricia was an artist in
dress. Finally, when her gold wristlet watch had
been fastened over a white glove she subjected her-
self to a final and exhaustive examination.

" Now, Patricia ! " — it had become with her a
habit to address her reflection in the mirror —
" shall we carry an umbrella, or shall we not ? "
For a few moments she regarded herself quizzically,
then finally announced, " No : we will not. An
umbrella suggests a bus, or the tube, and when a
girl goes out with a major in the British Army,
she goes in a taxi. No, we will not carry an
umbrella."

She still lingered in front of the mirror, looking
at herself with obvious approval.

" Yes, Patricia ! you are looking quite nice.
Your eyes are violeter, your hair more sunsetty

ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT 29
and your lips redder than usual, and, yes, your
face generally looks happier."

When she entered the lounge it was twenty
minutes to eight and, although dinner was at seven-
thirty, the room was full. Everybody stared at
her as with flushed cheeks she walked to the centre
of the room. Then suddenly turning to Miss
Wangle, she said, " Do you think I shall do, Miss
Wangle, or do I look too wicked for a major ? "

Miss Wangle merely stared. Mrs. Hamilton
smiled and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe looked sym-
pathetically at Miss Wangle. Mr. Bolton laughed.

" I wish I was a major, Miss Brent," he re-
marked, at which Patricia turned to him and made
an elaborate curtsy.

" That girl will come to a bad end," remarked
Miss Wangle with conviction to Mrs. Mosscrop-
Smythe, as with a smile over her shoulder Patricia
made a dramatic exit. She had noticed, however,
that Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe
were in hats and jackets. They, too, were ap-
parently going out, although she had not heard
them tell Mrs. Craske-Morton so. Mr. Bolton also
had his hat in his hand. During the day Patricia
had thought out very carefully the part she had
set herself to play. If she were going to meet
her fiance" back from the Front, she must appear
radiantly happy, vide conventional opinion.
But she had admonished her reflection in the
mirror, " You mustn't overdo it. Women, es-
pecially tabbies, are very acute."

30 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

It had been Patricia's intention to go by bus
but at the entrance of the lounge she saw Gustave
who ingratiatingly enquired, " Taxi, mees ? "

With a smile she nodded her head, and Gustave
disappeared. ' There goes another two shillings.
Oh, bother Major Brown ! Soldiers are costly
luxuries," she muttered under her breath.

A moment after Gustave reappeared with the
intimation that the taxi was at the door. A group
of her fellow-guests gathered in the hall to see her
off. Patricia thought their attitude more appro-
priate to a wedding than the fact that one of their
fellow-boarders was going out to dinner. "It is
clear," she thought, " that Patricia Brent, man-
catcher, is a much more important person than is
Patricia Brent, inveterate spinster."

She noticed that there was a second taxi at the
door, and while her own driver was " winding-
up " his machine, which took some little time, the
other taxi got off in front. She had seen get into
it Miss Wangle, Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, and Mr.
Bolton.

As the taxi sped eastward, Patricia began to
speculate as to what she really intended doing.
She had no appointment, she was in a taxi which
would cost her two shillings at least, and she had
given the address of the Quadrant Grill-room.

She was still considering what she should do
when the taxi drew up. Fate and the taxi driver
had decided the matter between them, and
Patricia determined to go through with it and dis-

ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT 31
appoint neither. Having paid the man and
tipped him handsomely, she descended the stairs
to the Grill-room. She had no idea of what it cost
to dine at the Quadrant ; but remembered with a
comfortable feeling that she had some two pounds
upon her. With moderation, she decided, it might
be possible to get a meal for that sum without
attracting the adverse criticism of the staff. It
had not struck her that it might appear strange
for a girl to dine alone at such a restaurant as the
Quadrant, and that she was laying herself open to
criticism. She was too excited at this new adven-
ture into which she had been precipitated for care-
ful reasoning.

As she descended the stairs she caught a glimpse
of herself in a mirror. She started. Surely that
could not be Patricia Brent, secretary to a rising
politician, that stylish-looking girl in black, with
a large bunch of carnations. That red-haired
creature with sparkling eyes and a colour that
seemed to have caught the reflection of the carna-
tions in her belt !

She entered the lounge at the foot of the stairs
with increased confidence, and she was conscious
that several men turned to look at her with
interest. Then suddenly the bottom fell out of her
world. There, standing in the vestibule, were Miss
Wangle, Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, and Mr. Bolton.
In a flash she saw it all. They had come to spy
upon her. They would find her out, and the whole
humiliating story would probably have to be told.

32 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Thoughts seemed to spurt through her mind.
What was she to do ? It was too late to retreat.
Miss Wangle had already fixed her with a stony
stare through her lorgnettes, which she carried
only on special occasions.

Patricia was conscious of bowing and smiling
sweetly. Some sub-conscious power seemed to
take possession of her. Still wondering what she
should do, she found herself walking head in the
air and perfectly composed, in the direction of the
Grill-room. She was conscious of being followed
by Miss Wangle and her party. As Patricia
rounded the glass screen a superintendent came
up and enquired if she had a table. She heard a
voice that seemed like and yet unlike her own
answer, " Yes, thank you," and she passed on
looking from right to left as if in search of someone,
unconscious of the many glances cast in her direc-
tion.

When about half-way up the long room, just
past the bandstand, the terrible thought came to
her of a possible humiliating retreat. What was
she to do ? Why was she there ? What were her
plans ? She looked about her, hoping that she
did not appear so frightened as she felt. She was
conscious of the gaze of a man seated at a table a
few yards off. He was fair and in khaki. That
was all she knew. Yes, he was looking at her
intently

" No, that table won't do ! It is too near to the
band." It was Miss Wangle's, voice behind her.

ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT 33

Without a moment's hesitation her sub-con-
scious self once more took possession of Patricia,
and she marched straight up to the fair-haired
man in khaki and in a voice loud enough for Miss
Wangle and her party to hear cried :

" Hullo ! so here you are, I thought I should
never find you." Then as he rose she murmured
under her breath, " Please play up to me, I'm in
an awful hole. I'll explain presently."

Without a moment's hesitation the man replied,
" You're very late. I waited for you a long time
outside, then I gave you up."

With a look of gratitude and a sigh of content,
Patricia sank down into the chair a waiter had
placed for her. If there had been no chair, she
would have fallen to the floor, her legs refusing
further to support her body. She was trembling
all over. Miss Wangle had selected the next
table. Patricia was conscious of hoping that
somewhere in the next world Miss Wangle's suffer-
ings would transcend those of Dives as a hundred
to one.

As she was pulling off her gloves her companion
held a low-toned colloquy with the waiter. She
stole a glance at him. What must he be think-
ing ? How had he classified her ? Her heart was
pounding against her ribs as if determined to burst
through.

Suddenly she remembered that the others were
watching and, leaning upon the table, she said :

" Please pretend to be very pleased to see me.

34 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
We must talk a lot. You know — you know — "
then she turned aside in confusion ; but with an
effort she said * " You — you are supposed to be
my fiance", and you've just come back from France,

and — and Oh ! what are you thinking of me ?

Please — please " she broke off.

Very gravely and with smiling eyes he replied,
" I quite understand. Please don't worry. Some-
thing has happened, and if I can do anything to
help, you have only to tell me. My name is
Bowen, and I'm just back from France."

" Are you a major ? " enquired Patricia, to
whom stars and crowns meant nothing.

" I'm afraid I'm a lieutenant - colonel," he
replied, " on the Staff."

" Oh ! what a pity," said Patricia, " I said you
were a major."

" Couldn't you say I've been promoted ? "

Patricia clapped her hands. " Oh ! how splen-
did ! Of course ! You see I said that you were
Major Brown, I can easily tell them that they
misunderstood and that it was Major Bowen.
They are such awful cats, and if they found out I
should have to leave. You see that's some of
them at the next table there. That's Miss Wangle
with the lorgnettes and the other woman is Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe, who is her echo, and the man
is Mr. Bolton. He's nothing in particular."

" I see," said Bowen.

" And — and — of course you've got to pretend
to be most awfully glad to see me. You see we

ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT 35
haven't met for a long time and — and — we're
engaged."

" I quite understand," was the reply.

Then suddenly Patricia caught his eye and saw
the smile in it.

" Oh, how dreadful ! " she cried. " Of course
you don't know anything about it. I'm talking
like a schoolgirl. You see my name's Patricia,
Patricia Brent," and then she plunged into the
whole story, telling him frankly of her escapade.
He was strangely easy to talk to.

" And — and — " she concluded, " what do you
think of me ? "

" I think I'd sooner not tell you just now," he
smiled.

" Is it as bad as that," she enquired.

Then suddenly the smile faded from his face and
he leaned across to her, saying :

" Miss Brent "

" I'm afraid you must call me Patricia," she
interrupted with a comical look, " in case they
overhear. It seems rather sudden, doesn't it, and
I shall have to call you "

11 Peter," he said. He had nice eyes Patricia
decided.

" Er — er — Peter," she made a dash at the name.

Bowen sat back in his chair and laughed. Miss
Wangle fixed upon him a stare through her
lorgnettes, not an unfavourable stare, she was
greatly impressed by his rank and red tabs.

After that the ice seemed broken and Patricia

36 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

and her " fiance " chatted merrily together,

greatly impressing Patricia's fellow-boarders.

Bowen was a good talker and a sympathetic
listener and, above all, his attitude had in it that
deference which put Patricia entirely at her ease.
She told him all there was to tell about herself and
he, in return, explained that he came of an army
family, and had been sent out to France soon after
Mons. He was then a captain in the Yeomanry.
He was wounded, promoted, and later received
the D.S.O. and M.C. He had now been brought
back to England and attached to the General
Staff.

" Now I think you know all that is necessary
to know about your fiance," he had concluded.

Patricia laughed. " Oh, by the way," she said,
" you have never given me an engagement ring.
Please don't forget that. They asked me where
my ring was, and I told them I didn't care about
rings, as they were badges of servitude You see
it is quite possible that Miss Wangle will come over
to us presently. She's just that sort, and she might
ask awkward questions, that is why I am telling
you all about myself."

" I'll remember," said Bowen.

" I'm glad you're a D.S.O., though," she went
on, half to herself, " that's sure to interest them,
and it's nice to think you're more than a major.
Miss Wangle anc Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe are most
worldly-minded. Of course it would have been
nicer had you been a field-marshal ; but I suppose

ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT 37

you couldn't be promoted from a major to a field-
marshal in the course of a few days, could you?"

"Well, it's not usual," he confessed.

When the meal was over Bowen looked at his
watch.

"I'm afraid it's too late for a show, it's a quarter
to ten."

"A quarter to ten!" cried Patricia. "How the
time has flown. I shall have to be going home."

He noticed preparations for a move at the
Wangle table.

"Oh, please, don't hurry! Let's go upstairs
and sit and smoke for a little time."

"Do you think I ought," enquired Patricia
critically, her head on one side.

"Well," replied Bowen, "I think that you
might safely do so as we are engaged," and that
settled it.

They went upstairs, and it was a quarter to
eleven before Patricia finally decided that she
must make a move.

"Do you know," she said as she rose, "I am
afraid I have enjoyed this most awfully; but oh!
to-morrow morning."

"Shall you be tired?" he enquired.

"Tired!" she queried, "I shall be hot with
shame. I shall not dare to look at myself in the
glass. I — I shall give myself a most awful time.
For days I shall live in torture. You see I'm
excited now and — and — you seem so nice, and
you've been so awfully kind; but when I get

38 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
alone, then I shall start wondering what was in
your mind, what you have been thinking of me,
and — and — oh ! it will be awful. No ; I'll come
with you while you get your hat. I daren't be left
alone. It might come on then and — and I should
probably bolt. Of course I shall have to ask you
to see me home, if you will, because — because "

"I'm your fiance," he smiled.

" Ummm," she nodded.

Both were silent as they sped along westward in
the taxi, neither seeming to wish to break the spell.

" Thinking ? " enquired Bowen at length, as
they passed the Marble Arch.

" I was thinking how perfectly sweet you've
been," replied Patricia gravely. ' You have
understood everything and — and — you see I was
so much at your mercy. Shall I tell you what I
was thinking ? "

" Please do."

" It sounds horribly sentimental."

" Never mind," he replied.

' Well, I was thinking that your mother would
like to know that you had done what you have
done to-night. And now, please, tell me how
much my dinner was."

" Your dinner ! "

" Yes, pls-e-e-e-ase," she emphasised the
" please."

" You insist ? "

And then Patricia did a strange thing. She
placed her hand upon Bowen's and pressed it.

ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT 39

'* Please go on understanding," she said, and he
told her how much the dinner was and took the
money from her. r

" May I pay for the taxi ? " he enquired comi-
cally. '

For a moment she paused and then replied
' Yes, I think you may do that, and now here we
are," as the taxi drew up, " and thank you very
much indeed, and good-bye." They were stand-
ing on the pavement outside Galvin House.

" Good-bye/' he enquired. " Do you really
mean it ? "

' Yes, ple-e-e-ase," again she emphasised the
" please."

" Patricia," he said in a serious tone, as the door
flew open and Gustave appeared silhouetted against
the light, " don't you think that sometimes we
ought to think of the other fellow ? "

" I shall always think of the other fellow," and
with a pressure of the hand, Patricia ran up the
steps and disappeared into the hall, the door
closing behind her. Bowen turned slowly and re-
entered the taxi.

1 Where to, sir ? " enquired the man.

" Oh, to hell 1 " burst out Bowen savagely.

' Yes, sir ; but wot about my petrol ? "

' Your petrol ? Oh ! I see," Bowen laughed.
" Well ! the Quadrant then."

In the hall Patricia hesitated. Should she go
into the lounge, where she was sure Galvin House
would be gathered in full force, or should she go

40 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
straight to bed ? Miss Wangle decided the mattei
by appearing at the door of the lounge.

"Oh! here you are, Miss Brent; we thought
you had eloped."

" Wasn't it strange we should see you to-
night ? " lisped Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, who had
followed Miss Wangle.

Patricia surveyed Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe with
calculating calmness.

" If two people go to the same Grill-room at the
same time on the same evening, it would be strange
if they did not see each other. Don't you think so
Miss Wangle ? "

" Did you say you were going there ? " lisped
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, coming to Miss Wangle's
assistance. ' We forgot."

" Oh, do come in, Miss Brent ! " It was Mrs.
Craske-Morton who spoke.

Patricia entered the lounge and found, as she
had anticipated, the whole establishment col-
lected. Not one was missing. Even Gustave
fluttered about from place to place, showing an
unwonted desire to tidy up. Patricia was conscious
that her advent had interrupted a conversation of
absorbing interest, furthermore that she herself
had been the subject of that conversation.

" Miss Wangle has been telling us all about your
fiance"." It was Miss Sikkum who spoke. " Fancy
your saying he was a major when he's a Staff
lieutenant-colonel."

" Oh ! " replied Patricia nonchalantly, as she

ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT 41

pulled off her gloves, " they've been altering him.
They always do that in the Army. You get
engaged to a captain and you find you have to
marry a general. It's so stupid. It's like buying
a kitten and getting a kangaroo-pup sent home."

" But aren't you pleased ? " enquired Mrs.
Craske-Morton, at a loss to understand Patricia's
mood.

" No ! " snapped Patricia, who was already
feeling the reaction. " It's like being engaged to
a chameleon, or a quick-change artist. They've
made him a ' R.S.O.' as well." Under her lashes
Patricia saw, with keen appreciation, the quick
glances that were exchanged.

' You mean a D.S.O., Distinguished Service
Order," explained Mr. Bolton. " An R.S.O. is er —
er — something you put on letters."

'Is it ? " enquired Patricia innocently, " I'm
so stupid at remembering such things."

" He was wearing the ribbon of the Military
Cross, too," bubbled Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe.

" Was he ? " Patricia was afraid of overdoing
the pose of innocence she had adopted. " What a

nuisance.
«

A nuisance ! " There was surprised im-
patience in Miss Wangle's voice.

Patricia turned to her sweetly. " Yes, Miss
Wangle. It gives me such a lot to remember.
Now let me see." She proceeded to tick off each
word upon her fingers. ' ' He's a Lieutenant-Colonel
Peter Bowen, D.S.O., M.C. Ts that right ? "

42 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Bowen," almost shrieked Miss Wangle. " You
said Brown "

" Did I ? I'm awfully sorry. My memory's
getting worse than ever/' Then a wave of mis-
chief took possession of her. " Do you know when
I went up to him to-night I hadn't the remotest
idea of what his Christian name was."

" Then what on earth do you call him then ? '
cried Mrs. Craske-Morton.

" Call him ? " queried Patricia, as she rose and
gathered up her gloves. " Oh ! " indifferently, " I
generally call him ' Old Thing,' ' and with that
she left the lounge, conscious that she had scored
a tactical victory.

CHAPTER IV

THE MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN

WHEN Patricia awakened the next
morning, it was with the feeling that
she had suffered some terrible dis-
appointment. As a child she remembered ex-
periencing the same sensation on the morning
after some tragedy that had resulted in her crying
herself to sleep. She opened her eyes and was
conscious that her lashes were wet with tears.
Suddenly the memory of the previous night's
adventure came back to her with a rush and, with
an angry dab of the bedclothes, she wiped her
eyes, just as the maid entered with the cup of
early-morning tea she had specially ordered.

With inspiration she decided to breakfast in bed.
She could not face a whole table of wide-eyed
interrogation. " Oh, the cats ! " she muttered
under her breath. " I hate women ! " Later she
slipped out of the house unobserved, with what
she described to herself as a " morning after the
party " feeling. She was puzzled to account for
the tears. What had she been dreaming of to
make her cry ?

Every time the thought of her adventure pre-
43

44 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

sented itself, she put it resolutely aside. She was
angry with herself, angry with the world, angry
with one Lieutenant-Colonel Peter Bowen. Why,
she could not have explained.

" Oh, bother ! " she exclaimed, as she made a
fourth correction in the same letter. " Going out
is evidently not good for you, Patricia/'

She spent the day alternately in wondering what
Bowen was thinking of her, and deciding that he
was not thinking of her at all. Finally, with a feel-
ing of hot shame, she remembered to what thoughts
she had laid herself open. Her one consolation
was that she would never see him again. Then,
woman-like, she wondered whether he would make
an effort to see her. Would he be content with his
dismissal ?

For the first time during their association, the
rising politician was conscious that his secretary
was anxious to get off sharp to time. At five
rainutes to five she resolutely put aside her note-
book, and banged the cover on to her typewriter.
Mr. Bonsor looked up at this unwonted energy
and punctuality on Patricia's part, and with a
tactful interest in the affairs of others that he was
endeavouring to cultivate for political purposes,
he enquired :

" Going out ? "

" No," snapped Patricia, " I'm going home/'

Mr. Bonsor raised his eyebrows in astonishment.
He was a mild-mannered man who had learned the
value of silence when faced by certain phases of

MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN 45
feminine psychological phenomena. He therefore
made no comment ; but he watched his secretary
curiously as she swiftly left the room.

Jabbing the pins into her hat and throwing her-
self into her coat, Patricia was walking down the
steps of the rising politician's house in Eaton
Square as the clock struck five. She walked
quickly in the direction of Sloane Square Railway
Station. Suddenly she slackened her speed. Why
was she hurrying home ? She felt herself blushing
hotly, and became furiously angry as if discovered
in some humiliating act. Then with one of those
odd emotional changes characteristic of her, she
smiled.

" Patricia Brent," she murmured, " I think a
little walk won't do you any harm," and she
strolled slowly up Sloane Street and across the
Park to Bayswater.

Her hand trembled as she put the key in the
door and opened it. She looked swiftly in the
direction of the letter-rack ; but her eyes were
arrested by two boxes, one very large and ob-
viously from a florist. A strange excitement
seized her. ' Were they ? "

At that moment Miss Sikkum came out of the
lounge simpering.

" Oh, Miss Brent ! have you seen your beautiful
presents ? "

Then Patricia knew, and she became angry with
herself on rinding how extremely happy she was.
Glancing almost indifferently at the labels she pro-

46 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
ceeded to walk upstairs. Miss Sikkum looked at
her in amazement.

" But aren't you going to open them ? " she
blurted out.

" Oh ! presently," said Patricia in an off-hand
way, " I had no idea it was so late," and she ran
upstairs, leaving Miss Sikkum gazing after her in
petrified astonishment.

That evening Patricia took more than usual
pains with her toilette. Had she paused to ask
herself why, she would have been angry.

When she came downstairs, the other boarders
were seated at the table, all expectantly awaiting
her entrance. On the table, in the front of her
chair, were the two boxes.

" I had your presents brought in here, Miss
Brent," explained Mrs. Craske-Morton.

" Oh ! I had forgotten all about them," said
Patricia indifferently, " I suppose I had better
open them," which she proceeded to do.

The smaller box contained chocolates, as Mr.
Bolton put it, " evidently bought by the hundred-
weight." The larger of the boxes was filled with
an enormous spray-bunch of white and red carna-
tions, tied with green silk ribbon, and on the top
of each box was a card, " With love from Peter."

Patricia's cheeks burned. She was angry, she
told herself, yet there was a singing in her heart
and a light in her eyes that oddly belied her. He
aad not torgotten ! He had dared to disobey her
Injunction ; for, she told herself, " good-bye "

MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN 47
clearly forbade the sending of flowers and choco-
lates. She was unconscious that every eye was
upon her, and the smile with which she regarded
now the flowers, now the chocolates, was self-
revelatory.

Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe glanced significantly at
Miss Wangle, who, however, was too occupied in
watching Patricia with hawk-like intentness to be
conscious of anything but the quarry.

Suddenly Patricia remembered, and her face
changed. The flowers faded, the chocolates lost
their sweetness and the smile vanished. The
parted lips set in a firm but mobile line. What
had before been a tribute now became in her eyes
an insult. Men sent chocolates and flowers to —
to " those women " ! If he respected her he would
have done as she commanded him, instead of
which he had sent her presents. Oh ! it was in-
tolerable.

11 If I sent flowers and chocolates to a lady
friend," said Mr. Bolton, " I should expect her to
look happier than you do, Miss Brent."

With an effort Patricia gathered herself to-
gether and with a forced smile replied, " Ah ! Mr.
Bolton, but you are different/' which seemed to
please Mr. Bolton mightily.

She was conscious that everyone was looking at
her in surprise not unmixed with disapproval.
She was aware that her attitude was not the con-
ventional pose of the happily-engaged girl. The
situation was strange. Even Mr. Cordal was

48 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
bestowing upon her a portion of his attention. It
is true that he was eating curry with a spoon,
which required less accuracy than something
necessitating a knife and fork ; still at meal times
it was unusual of him to be conscious even of the
existence of his fellow-boarders.

It was Gustave who relieved the situation by
handing to Patricia a telegram on the little tray
where the silver had long since given up the un-
equal struggle with the base metal beneath. Pat-
ricia with assumed indifference laid it beside her
plate.

" The boy ees waiting, mees," insinuated Gus-
tave.

Patricia tore open the envelope and read :
" May I come and see you this evening dont say
no peter."

Patricia was conscious of her flushed face and
she felt irritated at her own weakness. With a
murmured apology to Mrs. Morton she rose from
the table and went into the lounge where she wrote
the reply : " Regret impossible remember your
promise," then she paused. She did not want to
sign her full name, she could not sign her Christian
name she decided, so she compromised by using
initials only, " P.B." She took the telegram to
the door herself, knowing that otherwise poor
Gustave's life would be a misery at the hands of
Miss Wangle, Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe and the
others.

" Why had she given the boy sixpence ? " she

MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN 49

asked herself as she slowly returned to the dining-
room. Telegraph boys were paid. It was ridicu-
lous to tip them, especially when they brought
undesirable messages. ' Was the message un-
desirable ? " someone within seemed to question.
Of course it was, and she was very angry with
Bowen for not doing as she had commanded him.

When Patricia returned to the table and pro-
ceeded with the meal, she was conscious of the
atmosphere of expectancy around her. Every-
body wanted to know what was in the telegram.

At last Miss Wangle enquired, " No bad news I
hope, Miss Brent."

Patricia looked up and fixed Miss Wangle with
a deliberate stare, which she meant to be rude.

" None, Miss Wangle, thank you/' she replied
coldly.

The dinner proceeded until the sweet was being
served, when Gustave approached her once more.
' You are wanted, mees, on the telephone,
please," he said.

Patricia was conscious once more of crimsoning
as she turned to Gustave. " Please say that I'm
engaged," she said.

Gustave left the dining-room. Everybody
watched the door in a fever of expectancy.

Two minutes later Gustave reappeared and,
walking softly up to Patricia's chair, whispered in
a voice that could be clearly heard by everyone,
" It ees Colonel Baun, mees. He wish to speak ta
you."

50 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

1 Tell him I'm at dinner," replied Patricia
calmly. She could literally hear the gasp that
went round the table.

' But, Miss Brent," began Mrs. Craske-Morton.

Patricia turned and looked straight into Mrs.
Craske-Morton's eyes interrogatingly. Gustave
hesitated. Mrs. Craske-Morton collapsed. Miss
Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe exchanged
meaning glances. Little Mrs. Hamilton looked
concerned, almost a little sad. Patricia turned to
Gustave.

' You heard, Gustave ? "

" Yes, mees," replied Gustave and, turning
reluctantly towards the door, he disappeared.

There was something in Patricia's demeanour
that made it clear she would resent any comment
on her action, and the meal continued in silence.
Mr. Bolton made some feeble endeavours to
lighten the atmosphere ; but he was not suc-
cessful.

In the lounge a quarter of an hour later, Gustave
once more approached Patricia, this time with a
note.

" The boy ees waiting, mees," he announced.

Patricia tore open the envelope and read :

" DEAR PATRICIA,

" Won't you let me see you ? Please remem-
ber that even the under-dog has his rights.

" Yours ever,

" PETER."

MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN 51

' There is no answer, Gustave," said Patricia,
and Gustave left the room disconsolately.

Half an hour later Gustave returned once more.

On his tray were three telegrams. Patricia looked

'about her wildly. " Had the man suddenly gone

mad ? " she asked herself. " Tell the boy not to

wait, Gustave," she said.

' There ees three boys, mees."

The atmosphere was electrical. Mr. Bolton
laughed, then stopped suddenly. Miss Sikkum
simpered.

Patricia turned to Gustave with a calmness that
was not reflected in her cheeks.

' Tell the three boys not to wait, Gustave."

' Yes, mees ! " Gustave slowly walked to the
door. It was clear that he could not reconcile
with his standard of ethics the allowing of three
telegrams to remain unopened, and to dismiss
three boys without knowing whether or no there
really were replies. The same feeling was re-
flected in the faces of Patricia's fellow-boarders.

" Miss Brent must be losing a lot of relatives,
or coming into a lot of fortunes," remarked Mr.
Bolton to Mrs. Hamilton.

Patricia preserved an outward calm she was
far from feeling. She rose and went up to her
room to discover from the three orange envelopes
what was the latest phase of Colonel Bowen's
madness. Seated on her bed she opened the tele*
grams.

The first read :

52 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Will you go motoring with me on Sunday
peter."

No, she would do nothing of the kind.

The second said :

" If I have done anything to offend you please
tell me and forgive me peter."

Of course he had done nothing, and it was all
very absurd. Why was he behaving like a school-
boy?

The third was longer. It ran :

" I so enjoyed last night it was the most delight-
ful evening I have spent for many a day please
do not be too hard upon me peter."

This was a tactical error. It brought back to
Patricia the whole incident. It was utter folly to
have placed herself in such an impossible position.
Obviously Bowen knew nothing of women, or he
would not have made such a blunder as to remind
her of what took place on the previous night, un-
less— unless She hardly dare breathe the

thought to herself. What if he thought her
different from what she actually was ? Could he

confuse her with those It was impossible!

She was angry ; angry with him, angry with her-
self, angry with the Quadrant Grill-room ; but
angriest of all with Galvin House, which had pre-
cipitated her into this adventure.

Why did silly women expect every girl to
marry ? Why was it assumed because a woman
did not marry that no one wanted to marry her ?
Patricia regarded herself in the looking - glass.

MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN 53

Was she really the sort of girl who might be taken
for an inveterate old maid ? Her hands and feet
were small. Her ankles well-shaped. Her figure
had been praised, even by women. Her hair was a
natural red-auburn. Her features regular, her
mouth mobile, well-shaped with very red lips.
Her eyes a violet-blue with long dark lashes and
eyebrows.

" You're not so bad, Patricia Brent," she re-
marked as she turned from the glass. " But you
will probably be a secretary to the end of your
days, drink cold weak tea, keep a cat and get hard
and angular, skinny most likely. You're just the
sort that runs to skin and bone/'

She was interrupted in her meditations by a
knock at the door.

" Come in," she called.

The door was softly opened and Mrs. Hamilton
entered.

" May I come in, dear ? " she enquired in an
apologetic voice, as she stood on the threshold.

" Come in ! " cried Patricia, " why of course
you may, you dear. You can do anything you
like with me."

Mrs. Hamilton was small and white and fragile,
with a ray of sunlight in her soul. She invariably
dressed in grey, or blue-grey. Everything she
wore seemed to be as soft as her own expression.

" I — I came up — I — I — hope it is not bad
news. I don't want to meddle in your affairs, my
dear ; but I am concerned. If there is anything

54 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

I can do, you will tell me, won't you ? You won't

think me inquisitive, will you ? "

" Why you dear, silly little thing, of course I
don't. Still it's just like your sweet self to come
up and enquire. It is only that ridiculous Colonel
Bowen who is showering telegrams on me in this
way, in order, I suppose, to benefit the revenue.
I think he has gone mad. Perhaps it's shell-
shock, poor thing. There will most likely be
another shower before we go to bed. Now we will
go downstairs and stop those old pussies talking."

" My dear ! " expostulated Mrs. Hamilton.

Patricia laughed. "Yes, aren't I getting acid
and spinsterish ? "

As they walked downstairs Mrs. Hamilton said :

" I'm so anxious to see him, my dear. Miss
Wangle says he is so distinguished-looking."

' Who ? " enquired Patricia, with mock in-
nocence.

" Colonel Bowen, dear."

" Oh ! Yes, he's quite a decent-looking old
thing, and he's given Galvin House something to
talk about, hasn't he ? "

In the lounge Patricia soon became the centre
of a group anxious for information ; but no one
was daring enough to put direct questions to her.
Mrs. Craske-Morton ventured a suggestion that
Colonel Bowen might be coming to dine with
Patricia, and that she hoped Miss Brent would let
her know in good time, so that she might mak<j
special preparations.

MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN 55
Patricia replied without enthusiasm. None waj
>etter aware than she that had her fiance* turned
ut to be a private, Mrs. Craske-Morton would
lave been the last even to suggest that he should
ine at Galvin House. There would have been no
question of special preparations.

About ten o'clock Gustave entered and ap-
>roached Patricia. She groaned in spirit.

' You are wanted on the telephone, mees."

Patricia thought she detected a note of reproach
n his voice, as if he were conscious that a fellow-
male was being badly treated.

' Will you say that I'm engaged ? " replied
5atricia.

" It's Colonel Baun, mees."

For a moment Patricia hesitated. She was con-
scious that Galvin House was against her to a
woman. After all there were limits beyond which
t would be unwise to go. Galvin House had its
standards, which had already been sorely tried
Patricia felt rather than heard the whispered
criticism passing between Miss Wangle and Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe. Rising slowly with an air oi
reconciled martyrdom, Patricia went to the tele-
phone at the end of the hall, followed by the
smiling Gustave, who, like the rest of Galvin
House, had found his sense of decorum sorely out-
raged by Patricia's conduct.

" Hullo ! " cried Patricia into the mouthpiece
of the telephone, her heart thumping ridiculously.

Gustave walked tactfully away.

56 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" That you, Patricia ? " came the reply.

Patricia was conscious that all her anger had
vanished.

" Yes, who is speaking ? "

" Peter/'

" Yes."

" How are you ? "

" Did you ring me up to ask after my health ? "

There was a laugh at the other end.

" Well ! " enquired Patricia, who knew she was
behaving like a schoolgirl.

" Did you get my message ? "

" I'm very angry."

" Why ? "

" Because you've made me ridiculous with your
telegrams, messenger-boys, and telephoning."

" May I call ? "

" No."

" I'm coming to-morrow night."

" I shall be out."

" Then I'll wait until you return."

" Are you playing the game, do you think ?

" I must see you. Expect me about nine."

" I shall do nothing of the sort."

" Please don't be angry, Patricia."

'Well! you mustn't come, then. Thank you
for the chocolates and flowers."

' That's all right. Don't forget to-morrow at*,
nine."

" I tell you I shall be out."

" Right-oh ! "

MADNESS OF LORD PETER BOWEN 57

1 Good-bye ! "

Without waiting for a reply, Patricia hung up
the receiver.

When she returned to the lounge her cheeks
;vere flushed, and she was feeling absurdly happy,
fhen a moment after she asked herself what it was
:o her whether he remembered or forgot her. He
an entire stranger — or at least he ought to be.

Just as she was going up to her room for the
light, another telegram arrived. It contained
:hree words : " Good night peter."

Of all the ridiculous creatures ! " she mur-
nured, laughing in spite of herself.

CHAPTER V
PATRICIA'S REVENGE

GALVIN HOUSE dined at seven - thirty.
Miss Wangle had used all her arts in an
endeavour to have the hour altered to
eight-fifteen, or eight -thirty. " It would add tone
to the establishment," she had explained to Mrs.
Craske-Morton. " It is dreadfully suburban to
dine at half -past seven." Conscious of the views
of the other guests, Mrs. Craske-Morton had held
out, necessitating the bringing up of Miss Wangle's
heavy artillery, the bishop, whose actual views
Miss Wangle shrouded in a mist of words. As far
as could be gathered, the illustrious prelate held
out very little hope of salvation for anyone who
dined earlier than eight-thirty.

Just as Mrs. Craske-Morton was wavering, Mr.
Bolton had floored Miss Wangle and her ecclesias-
tical relic with the simple question, " And who'll
pay for the biscuits I shall have to eat to keep
going until half -past eight ? "

That had clinched the matter. Galvin House
continued to dine at the unfashionable hour of
seven-thirty. Miss Wangle had resigned herself
to the inevitable, conscious that she had done her

58

PATRICIA'S REVENGE 59

utmost for the social salvation of her fellow-guests,
and mentally reproaching Providence for casting
her lot with the Cordals and the Boltons, rather
than with the De Veres and the Montmorencies.

Mr. Bolton confided to his fellow-boarders what
he conceived to be the real cause of Mrs. Craske-
Morton's decision.

" She's afraid of what Miss Wangle would eat if
left unfed for an extra hour," he had said.

Miss Wangle's appetite was like Dominie Samp-
son's favourite adjective, " prodigious."

So it came about that on the Friday evening on
which Colonel Peter Bowen had announced his
intention of calling on Patricia, Galvin House, all
unconscious of the event, sat down to its evening
meal at its usual time, in its usual coats and
blouses, with its usual vacuous smiles and small
talk, and above all with its usual appetite — an
appetite that had caused Mrs. Craske-Morton to
bless the inauguration of food-control, and to pray
devoutly to Providence for food-tickets.

Had anyone suggested to Patricia that she had
dressed with more than usual care that evening,
she would have denied it, she might even have
been annoyed. Her simple evening frock of black
voile, unrelieved by any colour save a ribbon of
St. Patrick's green that bound her hair, showed up
the paleness of her skin and the redness of her lips.
At the last moment, as if under protest, she had
pinned some oi Bowen's carnations in her belt.
As she entered the dining-room, Miss Wangle

60 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe exchanged significant
glances. Woman-like they sensed something un-
usual. Galvin House did not usually dress for
dinner.

" Going out ? " enquired Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe
sweetly.

" Probably/' was Patricia's laconic reply.

Soup had not been disposed of (it was soup on
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays ; fish on
Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and neither
on Sundays at Galvin House) before Gustave
entered with an enormous bouquet of crimson
carnations. It might almost be said that the
carnations entered propelled by Gustave, as there
was very little but Gustave's smiling face above
and the ends of his legs below the screen of flowers.
Instinctively everybody looked at Patricia.

" For you, mees, with Colonel Baun's compli-
ments."

Gustave stood irresolute, the crimson blooms
cascading before him.

" You've forgotten the conservatory, Gustave,"
laughed Mr. Bolton. It was always easy to iden-
tify the facetious from the serious Mr. Bolton ;
his jokes were always heralded by a laugh.

" Sir ? " interrogated the literal-minded Gus-
tave.

" Never mind, Gustave. Mr. Bolton was
joking," said Mrs. Craske-Morton.

" Yes, madame." Gustave smiled a mechanical
tmile : he overflowed with tact.

PATRICIA'S REVENGE 61

"Where will you have the flowers, Miss Brent? "
enquired Mrs. Craske-Morton. "They are ex-
quisite."

"Try the bath," suggested Mr. Bolton.

"Sir?" from Gustave.

It was Alice, Gustave's assistant in the dining-
room during meals, who created the diversion for
which Patricia had been devoutly praying. An
affected little laugh from Miss Sikkum called
attention to Alice, standing just inside the door,
with an enormous white and gold box tied with
bright green ribbon.

Patricia regarded the girl in dismay.

"Put them in the lounge, please," she said.

"You are lucky, Miss Brent," giggled Miss
Sikkum enviously. "I wonder what's in the box."

"A chest protector," Mr. Bolton's laugh rang
out.

"Really, Mr. Bolton!" from Mrs. Craske-
Morton.

Patricia wondered was she lucky? Why should
she be made ridiculous in this fashion?

"I should say chocolates." The suggestion
came from Mr. Cordal through a mouthful of roast
beef and Brussels sprouts. Everyone turned to
the speaker, whose gastronomic silence was one of
the most cherished traditions of Galvin House. »

"He must have plenty of money," remarked
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe to Miss Wangle in a
whisper, audible to all. "Those flowers and
chocolates must have cost a lot."

62 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Ten pounds." The remark met a large Brussels
sprout that Mr. Cordal was conveying to his mouth
and summarily ejected it.

As Mr. Cordal was something on the Stock
Exchange (Mr. Bolton had once said he must be
a " bear ") he was, at Galvin House, the recog-
nised authority upon all matters of finance.

" Really, Mr. Cordal ! " expostulated Mrs. Craske-
Morton, rather outraged at this open discussion of
Patricia's affairs.

" Sure of it/' was all Mr. Cordal vouchsafed as
he shovelled in another mouthful.

" You've been a goer in your time, Mr. Cordal,"
said Mr. Bolton.

Mr. Cordal grunted, which may have meant any-
thing, but in all probability meant nothing.

For a quarter of an hour the inane conversation
so characteristic of meal-times at Galvin House
continued without interruption. How Patricia
hated it. Was this all that hfe held for her ? Was
she always to be a drudge to the Bonsors, a
victim of the Wangles and a target for the Boltons
of life ? It was to escape such drab existences that
girls went on the stage, or worse ; and why not ?
She had only one life, so far as she knew, and here
she was sacrificing it to the jungle people, as she
called them. Was there no escape ? What St.
George would rescue her from this dragon of ?

" Colonel Baun, mees."

Patricia looked up with a start from the apple
tart with which she was trifling. Gustave stood

PATRICIA'S REVENGE 63

reside her, his face glowing in a way that hinted
it a handsome tip. He was all-unconscious that
ie had answered a very difficult question in a
nanner entirely unsatisfactory to Patricia.

" I haf show him in the looaunge, mees. He will
wait."

Patricia believed him. Was ever man so per-
iistent ? She saw through the move. He had
:ome an hour earlier to be sure of catching her
Before she went out. Patricia was once more con-
>cious of the ridiculous behaviour of her heart. It
thumped and pounded against her ribs as if deter-
mined to compromise her with the rest of the
boarders.

1 Very well, Gustave, say we are at dinner/'
' Yes, mees," and Gustave proceeded with his
iuties.

" He's clever," was Patricia's inward comment.
1 He's bought Gustave, and in an hour he'll have
the whole blessed place against me."

If the effect upon Patricia of Gustave's announce-
ment had been startling, that upon the rest of
the company was galvanic. Each felt aggrieved
:hat proper notice had not been given of so
mspicious an event. There was a general feeling

resentment against Patricia for not having told
ihem that she expected Bowen to call.

There were covert glances at their garments by
:he ladies, and among the men a consciousness that
:he clothes they were wearing were not those they
lad upstairs.

64 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

Miss Sikkum's playful fancy was with the
Brixton " Paris model," which only that day she
had taken to the cleaners ; Miss Wangle was con-
scious that she had not hung herself with her full
equipment of chains and accoutrements ; Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe thought regretfully of the pale
blue evening-gown upstairs, a garment that had
followed the course of fashion for nearly a quarter
of a century. Mr. Bolton had doubts about his
collar and his boots, whilst Mr. Cordal, with the
aid of his napkin and some water from a drinking
glass, strove to remove from his waistcoat remin-
iscences of bygone repasts.

The other members of the company all had
something to regret. Mr. Archibald Sefton, whose
occupation was a secret between himself and Provi-
dence, was dubious about the creases in his trousers ;
Mrs. Barnes wondered if the gallant colonel would
discover the ink she had that day applied to the
seams of her dress. Everyone was constrained and
anxious to get to his or to her room for repairs.

" Did you know Colonel Bowen was coming ? "
enquired Mrs. Craske-Morton, quite at her ease in
the knowledge that " something had told her " to
put on her best black silk and the large cameo
pendant that made her look like a wine-steward
at a fashionable restaurant.

" He said he might drop in ; but he's so casual
that I didn't think it worth mentioning/' said
Patricia, conscious that the reply was unani-
mously regarded as unconvincing.

PATRICIA'S REVENGE 65

Having finished her coffee Patricia rose in a
leisurely manner. She was no sooner out of the
door than a veritable stampede ensued. Every-
one intended " just to slip upstairs for a moment,"
and each glared at the other on discovering that
all seemed inspired by the same idea.

Mrs. Craske-Morton went to her " boudoir "
out of tactful consideration for the young lovers :
Mrs. Hamilton went up to the drawing-room for
the same reason.

Patricia paused for a moment outside the door
of the lounge. She put her cool hands to her hot
cheeks, wondering why her heart should show so
little regard for her feelings. She felt an impulse
to run away and lock herself in her own room and
cry " Go away ! " to anyone who might knock.
She strove to work herself into a state of anger
with Bowen for daring to come an hour before the
time appointed.

As she entered the lounge, Bowen sprang up and
came towards her. There was a spirit of boyish
mischief lurking in his eyes.

" I suppose," said Patricia as they shook hands,
" you think this is very clever."

" Please, Patricia, don't bully me."

Patricia laughed in spite of herself at the
humility and appeal in his voice. She was con-
scious that she was not behaving as she ought, or
had intended to behave.

" It seems an age since I saw you," he con-
tinued.

66 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Forty-eight hours, to be exact," commented
Patricia, forgetful of all the reproachful things she
had intended to say.

" You got the flowers ? " as his eye fell on the
carnations which Gustave had placed in a large
bowl.

" Yes, thank you very much indeed, they're ex-
quisite. They made Miss Sikkum quite envious."

" Who's Miss Sikkum ? "

" Time, in all probability, will show," replied
Patricia, seating herself on a settee. Bowen drew
up a chair and sat opposite to her. She liked him
for that. Had he sat beside her, she told herself,
she would have hated him.

" You're not angry with me, Patricia, are
you ? " There was an anxious note in his voice.

" Do you appreciate that you've made me
extremely ridiculous with your telegrams, mes-
senger-boys, conservatories, and confectioner's-
shops ? Why did you do it ? "

" I don't know," he confessed with uncon-
scious gaucherie, " I simply couldn't get you out
of my thoughts."

" Which shows that you tried," commented
Patricia, the lightness of her words contradicted
by the blush that accompanied them.

" The King's Regulations do not provide for
Patricias," he replied, " and I had to try. That is
now I knew."

" Do you think I'm a cormorant, as well as an
abandoned person ? " she demanded.

PATRICIA'S REVENGE 67

" A cormorant ? " queried Bo wen, ignoring the
second question. " I don't understand."

" Within twenty-four hours you have sent me
enough chocolates to last for a couple of months/'

" Poor Patricia ! " he laughed.

" You mustn't call me Patricia, Colonel Bowen,"
she said primly. " What will people think ? "

" What would they think if they heard the man
you're engaged to call you Miss Brent ? "

" We are not engaged," said Patricia hotly.

" We are," his eyes smiled into hers. " I can
bring all these people here to prove it on your own
statement."

She bit her lip. " Are you going to be mean ?
Are you going to play the game ? " She awaited
his reply with an anxiety she strove to disguise.

Bowen looked straight into her eyes until they
fell beneath his gaze.

" I'm afraid I've got to be mean, Patricia," he
said quietly. " May we smoke ? "

As she took a cigarette from his case and he
lighted it for her, Patricia found herself experi-
encing a new sensation. Without apparent effort
he had assumed control of the situation, and then
with a masterfulness that she felt rather than
acknowledged, had put the subject aside as if
requiring no further comment. This was a side of
Bowen's character that she had not yet seen.
A.S she was debating with herself whether or no
she liked it, the door opened, giving access to a
stream of Galvin Houseites.

68 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Oh ! " gasped Patricia hysterically, " they're
all dressed up, and it's in your honour."

" What's that ? " enquired Bowen, less mentally
agile than Patricia, as he turned round to gaze at
the string of paying guests that oozed into the
room.

" They've put on their best bibs and tuckers for
you/' she cried. " Oh ! please don't even smile,
ple-e-e-ase ! "

The first to enter was Miss Wangle. Although
she had not changed her dress, it was obvious that
she had taken considerable pains with her personal
appearance. On her fingers were more than the
usual weight of rings ; round her neck were flung
a few additional chains ; on her arms hung an
extra bracelet or two and, as a final touch, she had
added a fan to her equipment. To Patricia's keen
eyes it was clear that she had re-done her hair, and
she carried her lorgnettes, things that in them'
selves betokened a ceremonial occasion.

Following Miss Wangle like an echo came Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe. She had evidently taken her
courage in both hands and donned the blue even-
ing frock, to which she had added a pair of white
gloves which reached barely to the elbow, although
the frock ended just below her shoulders.

Miss Wangle bowed graciously to Patricia, Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe followed suit. They moved
over to the extreme end of the room. Mr. Cordal
was the next arrival, closely followed by Mr.
Bolton. At the sight of Mr. Cordal Patricia started

PATRICIA'S REVENGE 69

and bit her lower lip. He had assumed a vivid
blue tie, and had obviously changed his collar.
From the darker spots on his waistcoat and coat
it was evident that he had subjected his clothes
to a vigorious process of cleaning.

Mr. Bolton, on the other hand, had followed
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe's lead, and made a clean
sweep. He had assumed a black frock-coat ; but
had apparently not thought it worth while to
change his brown tweed trousers, which hung
about his boots in shapeless folds, as if conscious
that they had no right there. He, too, had
donned a clean collar and, by way of adding to his
splendour, had assumed a white satin necktie
threaded through a " diamond " ring. His thin
dark hair was generously oiled and, as he passed
over to the side of the room occupied by Miss
Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, he left be-
hind him a strong odour of verbena.

Mrs. Barnes came next and, one by one, the
other guests drifted in. All had assumed some-
thing in the nature of a wedding garment in
honour of Patricia's fiance. Miss Sikkum had
selected a pea-green satin blouse, which caused
Bowen to screw his eyeglass vigorously into his
eye and gaze at her in wonder.

" Do you like them ? " It was Patricia who
broke the silence.

With a start Bowen turned to her. " Er— er —
they seem an er — awfully decent crowd."

Patricia laughed. " Yes, aren't they ? Dread-

70 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

fully decent. How would you like to live among
them all ? Why they haven't the pluck to break
a commandment among them."

Bowen looked at Patricia in surprise. " Really ! "
was the only remark he could think of.

" And now I've shocked you ! " cried Patricia.
"You must not think that I like people whc
break commandments. I don't know exactly
what I do mean. Oh, here you are ! " and she
ran across as Mrs. Hamilton entered and drew her
towards Bowen. " Now I know what I meant.
This dear little creature has never broken a com-
mandment, I wouldn't mind betting everything I
have, and she has never been uncharitable to any-
one who has. Isn't that so ? " She turned to
Mrs. Hamilton, who was regarding her in astonish-
ment. " Oh, I'm so sorry ! I'm quite mad to-
night, you mustn't mind. You see Colonel Bowen's
mad and he makes me mad."

Turning to Bowen she introduced him to Mrs.
Hamilton. ' This is my friend, Mrs. Hamilton."
Then to Mrs. Hamilton. ' You know all about
Colonel Bowen, don't you, dear ? He's the man
who sends me conservatories and telegrams and
boy-messengers and things."

Mrs. Hamilton smiled up sweetly at Bowen, and
neld out her hand.

Patricia glanced across at the group at the
other end of the lounge. The scene reminded her
of Napoleon on the Bellerophon.

Suddenly she had an idea. It synchronised

PATRICIA'S REVENGE 71

with the entry of Gustave, who stood just inside
the door smiling inanely.

" Call a taxi for Colonel Bowen, please, Gus-
tave," she said coolly.

Gustave looked surprised, the group looked dis-
appointed, Bowen looked at Patricia with a
puzzled expression.

" I'm sorry you're in a hurry," said Patricia,
holding out her hand to Bowen. " I'm busy also."

" But " began Bowen.

" Oh ! don't trouble." Patricia advanced, and
he had perforce to retreat towards the door.
" See you again sometime. Good-bye," and
Bowen found himself in the hall.

" Damn ! " he muttered.

" Sir ? " interrogated Gustave anxiously.

As Bowen was replying to Gustave in coin, Mrs.
Craske-Morton appeared at the head of the stairs
on her way down to the lounge after her tactful
absence. For a moment she hesitated in obvious
surprise, then, with the air of a would-be traveller
who hears the guard's whistle, she threw dignity
aside and made for Bowen.

" Colonel Bowen ? " she interrogated anxi-
ously.

Bowen turned and bowed.

" I am Mrs. Craske-Morton. Miss Brent did not
tell me that you were making so short a call, or I

would " Mrs. Craske-Morton's pause implied

that nothing would have prevented her from
hurrying down.

72 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" You are very kind," murmured Bowen ab-
sently, not yet recovered from his unceremonious
dismissal. He was brought back to realities by
Mrs. Craske-Morton expressing a hope that he
would give her the pleasure of dining at Galvin
House one evening. " Shall we say Friday ? "
she continued without allowing Bowen time to
reply, " and we will keep it as a delightful surprise
for Miss Brent/' Mrs. Craske-Morton exposed
her teeth and felt romantic.

When Bowen left Galvin House that evening
he was pledged to give Patricia " a delightful sur-
prise " on the following Friday.

" That will teach them to pity me ! " mur-
mured Patricia that night as she brushed her hair
with what seemed entirely unnecessary vigour.
She was conscious that she was the best-hated girl
in Bayswater, as she recalled the angry and
reproachful looks directed towards her by her
fellow-guests after Bowen's departure.

In an adjoining room Miss Wangle, a black cap
upon her head, was also engaged in brushing her
hair with a gentleness foreign to most of her
actions

" The cat ! " she murmured as she lay it in its
drawer, and then as she locked the drawer she
repeated, " The cat I "

CHAPTER VI

THE INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE

SUNDAY at Galvin House was a day of
bodily rest but acute mental activity.
The day of God seemed to draw out the
worst in everybody ; all were in their best clothes
and on their worst behaviour. Mr. Cordal de-
scended to breakfast in carpet slippers with fur
tops. Miss Wangle regarded this as a mark of
disrespect towards the grand-niece of a bishop.
She would glare at Mr. Cordal's slippers as if con-
vinced that the cloven hoof were inside.

Mr. Bolton sported a velvet smoking- jacket,
white at the elbows, light grey trousers and a
manner that seemed to say, " Ha ! here's Sunday
again, good ! " After breakfast he added a fez
and a British cigar to his equipment, and retired
to the lounge to read Lloyd's News. Both the
cigar and the newspaper lasted him throughout
the day Somewhere at the back of his mind was*
the conviction that in smoking a cigar, which he
disliked, he was making a fitting distinction
between the Sabbath and week-days. He went
.ven further, for whereas on secular days he lit his

73

74 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
inexpensive cigarettes with matches, on the
Sabbath he used only fusees.

' I love the smell of fusees/' Miss Sikkum would
simper, regardless of the fact that a hundred times
before she had taken Galvin House into her con-
fidence on the subject. " I think they're so
romantic."

Patricia wondered if Mr. Bolton's fusee were an
offering to heaven or to Miss Sikkum.

On Sunday mornings Miss Wangle and Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe went to divine service at West-
minster Abbey, and Mr. Cordal went to sleep in
the lounge.

Mrs. Barnes wandered aimlessly about, making
anxious enquiry of everyone she encountered.
If it were cloudy, did they think it would rain ?
If it rained, did they think it would clear up ? If
it were fine, did they think it would last ? Mrs.
Barnes was always going to do something that
was contingent upon the weather. Every Sunday
she was going for a walk in the Park, or to
church ; but her constitutional indecision of
character intervened.

Mr. Archibald Sefton, who showed the qualities
of a landscape gardener in the way in which he
arranged his thin fair hair to disguise the desert of
baldness beneath, was always vigorous on Sun-
days. He descended to the dining-room rubbing
his hands in a manner suggestive of a Dickens
Christmas. After breakfast he walked in the
Park, " to give the girls a treat," as Mr. Bolton

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 75
had once expressed it, which had earned for him
a stern rebuke from Miss Wangle. In the after-
noon Mr. 3efton returned to the Park, and in the
evening yet again.

Mr. Sefton had a secret that was slowly pro-
ducing in him misanthropy. His nature was
tropical and his courage arctic, which, coupled with
his forty-five years, was a great obstacle to his
happiness. In dress he was a dandy, at heart he
was a craven and, never daring, he was consumed
with his own fire.

The other guests at Galvin House drifted in
and out, said the same things, wore the same
clothes, with occasional additions, had the same
thoughts ; whilst over all, as if to compose the
picture, brooded the reek of cooking.

The atmosphere of Galvin House was English,
the cooking was English, and the lack of culinary
imagination also was English. There were two
and a half menus for the one o'clock Sunday
dinner. Roast mutton, onion sauce, cabbage,
potatoes, fruit pie, and custard ; alternated for
four weeks with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding,
cauliflower, roast potatoes, and lemon pudding.
Then came roast pork, apple sauce, potatoes,
greens with stewed fruit and cheese afterwards.

The cosine was in itself a calendar. If your
first Sunday were a roast-pork Sunday, you knew
without mental effort on every roast-pork Sunday
exactly how many months you had been there.
If for a moment you had forgotten the day, and

76 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
found yourself toying with a herring at dinner,
you knew it was a Tuesday, just as you knew it
was Friday from the Scotch broth placed before
you.

Nobody seemed to mind the dreary reiteration,
because everybody was so occupied in keeping up
appearances. Sunday was the day of reckoning
and retrospection. " Were they getting full value
for their money ? " was the unuttered question.
There were whisperings and grumblings, some-
times complaints. Then there was another aspect.
Each guest had to enquire if the expenditure were
justified by income. All these things, like the
weekly mending, were kept for Sundays.

By tea-time the atmosphere was one of unrest.
Mr. Sermon returned from the Park disappointed,
Miss Sikkum from Sunday-school, breathless from
her flight before some alleged admirer, Patricia
from her walk, conscious of a dissatisfaction she
could not define. Mr. Cordal awoke unrefreshed,
Mrs. Craske-Morton emerged from her " boudoir,"
where she balanced the week's accounts, con-
vinced that ruin stared her in the face owing to
the tonic qualities of Bayswater air, and Mr.
Bolton emerged from Lloyd's News facetious.
Miss Wangle was acid, Mrs. Mosscrop - Smythe
ultra-forbearing, whilst Mrs. Barnes found it im-
possible to decide between a heart-cake and a rusk.
Only Mrs. Hamilton, at work upon her inevitable
knitting, seemed human and content.

On returning to Galvin House Patricia had

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 77

formed a habit of instinctively casting her eyes in
the direction of the letter-rack, beneath which
was the table on which parcels were placed that
they might be picked up as the various guests
entered on their way to their rooms. She took
herself severely to task for this weakness, but in
spite of her best efforts, her eyes would wander
towards the table and letter-rack. At last she had
to take stern measures with herself and deliber-
ately walk along the hall with her face turned to
the left, that is to the side opposite from that of
the letter-rack table.

On the Sunday afternoon following her adven-
ture at the Quadrant Grill-room, Patricia entered
Galvin House, her head resolutely turned to the
left, and ran into Gustave.

"Oh, mees!" he exclaimed, his gentle, cow-
like face expressing pained surprise, rather than
indignation.

Gustave was a Swiss, a French-Swiss, he was
emphatic on this point. Patricia said he was
Swiss wherever he wasn't French, and German
wherever he wasn't Swiss and French.

"I am so sorry, Gustave," apologised Patricia.
"I wasn't looking where I was going."

Gustave smiled amiably, Patricia was a great
favourite of his. " There is a lady in the looaunge,
Mees Brent, the same as you." Gustave smiled
broadly as if he had discovered some subtle joke
in the duplication of Patricia's name.

"Oh, bother!" muttered Patricia to herself.

78 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Aunt Adelaide, imagine Aunt Adelaide on an

afternoon like this."

She entered the lounge wearily, to find Miss
Brent the centre of a group, the foremost in which
were Mrs. Craske-Morton, Miss Wangle, and Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe. Patricia groaned in spirit ;
she knew exactly what had been taking place, and
now she would have to explain everything. Could
she explain ? Had she for one moment paused
to think of Aunt Adelaide, no amount of frenzy
or excitement would have prompted her to such
an adventure. Miss Brent would probe the mys-
tery out of a ghost. Material, practical, level-
headed, victorious, she would strip romance from
a legend, or glamour from a myth.

As she entered the lounge, Patricia saw by the
movement of Miss Wangle's lips that she was say-
ing " Ah ! here she is." Miss Brent turned and
regarded her niece with a long, non-committal
stare. Patricia walked over to her.

" Hullo, Aunt Adelaide ! Who would have
thought of seeing you here."

Miss Brent looked up at her, received the frigid
kiss upon one cheek and returned it upon the
other.

" A peck for a peck," muttered Patricia to her-
self under her breath.

" We've been talking about you," said Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe ingratiatingly.

" How strange," announced Patricia in-
differently. " Well, Aunt Adelaide," she con-

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 79

tinued, turning to Miss Brent, " this is an un-
expected pleasure. How is it you are dissipating
in town ? "

" I want to speak to you, Patricia. Is there a
quiet corner where we shall not be overheard ? "

Miss Wangle started, Mrs. Craske-Morton rose
hurriedly and made for the door. Mrs. Mosscrop-
Smythe looked uncomfortable. Miss Brent's direct-
ness was a thing dreaded by all who knew her.

' You had better come up to my room, Aunt
Adelaide," said Patricia.

As she reached the door, Mrs. Craske-Morton
turned. " Oh ! Miss Brent," she said, addressing
Patricia, " would you not like to take your aunt
into my boudoir ? It is entirely at your disposal."

Mrs. Craske-Morton's " boudoir " was a small
cupboard-like appartment in which she made up
her accounts. It was as much like a boudoir as a
starveling mongrel is like an aristocratic chow.
Patricia smiled her thanks. One of Patricia's
great points was that she could smile an acknow-
ledgment in a way that was little less than in-
spiration.

When they reached the " boudoir," Miss Brent
sat down with a suddenness and an air of aggression
that left Patricia in no doubt as to the nature of
the talk she desired to have with her.

Miss Brent was a tall, angular woman, with
spinster shouting from every angle of her un-
comely person. No matter what the fashion, she
seemed to wear her clothes all bunched up about

8o PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
her hips. Her hair was dragged to the back of her
head, and crowned by a hat known in the dim
recesses of the Victorian past as a " boater." A
veil clawed what remained of the hair and hat
towards the rear, and accentuated the sharpness
of her nose and the fleshlessness of her cheeks.
Miss Brent looked like nothing so much as an
aged hawk in whom the lust to prey still lingered,
without the power of making the physical effort
to capture it.

" Patricia," she demanded, " what is all this I
hear ? "

" If you've been talking to Miss Wangle and
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, Aunt Adelaide, heaven
only knows what you've heard," replied Patricia
calmly.

" Patricia." Miss Brent invariably began her
remarks by uttering the name of the person whom
she addressed. " Patricia, you know perfectly
well what I mean."

" I should know better, if you would tell me,"
murmured Patricia with a patient sigh as she
seated herself in the easiest of the uneasy chairs,
and procceeded to pull off her gloves.

" Patricia, I refer to these stories about your
being engaged."

" Yes, Aunt Adelaide ? "

" Have you nothing to say ? "

" Nothing in particular. People get engaged.
you know. I suppose it is because they've got
nothing else to do."

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 81

" Patricia, don't be frivolous."

" Frivolous ! Me frivolous ! Aunt Adelaide !
If you were a secretary to a brainless politician,
who is supposed to rise, but who won't rise, can't
rise, and never will rise, from ten until five each
day, for the magnificent salary of two and a haU
guineas a week, even you wouldn't be able to be
frivolous."

" Patricia ! " There was surprised disapproval
in Miss Brent's voice. " Are you mad ? "

"No, Aunt Adelaide, just bored, just bored
stiff." Patricia emphasised the word " stiff " in
a way that brought Miss Brent into an even more
upright position.

" Patricia, I wish you would change your idiom.
Your flagrant vulgarity would have deeply pained
your poor, dear father."

Patricia made no response ; she simply looked
as she felt, unutterably bored. She was incapable
even of invention. Supposing she told her aunt
the whole story, at least she would have the joy
of seeing the look of horror that would overspread
her features.

" Patricia," continued Miss Brent, " I repeat,
what is this I hear about your being engaged ? "

"Oh!" replied Patricia indifferently, "I sup-
pose you've heard the truth; I've got engaged."

' Without telling me a word about it."

" Oh, well ! those are nasty things, you know,
that one doesn't advertise."

" Patricia ! "

82 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Well, aunt, you say that all men are beasts,
and if you associate with beasts, you don't like the
world to know about it."

" Patricia ! " repeated Miss Brent.

" Aunt Adelaide ! " cried Patricia, " you make
me feel that I absolutely hate my name. I wish
I'd been numbered. If you say ' Patricia ' again
I shall scream."

" Is it true that you are engaged to Lord Peter
Bowen ? "

" Good Lord, no." Patricia sat up in astonish-
ment.

" Then that woman in the lounge is a liar."

There was uncompromising conviction in Miss
Brent's tone.

Patricia leaned forward and smiled. " Aunt
Adelaide, you are singularly discriminating to-
day. She is a liar, and she also happens to be a
cat."

Miss Brent appeared not to hear Patricia's
remark. She was occupied with her own thoughts.
She possessed a masculine habit of thinking before
she spoke, and in consequence she was as devoid
of impulse and spontaneity as a snail.

Patricia watched her aunt covertly, her mind
working furiously. What could it mean ? Lord
Peter Bowen ! Miss Wangle was not given to
making mistakes in which the aristocracy were
concerned. At Galvin House she was the recog-
nised authority upon anything and everything
concerned with royalty and the titled and landed

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 83

gentry. County families were her hobbies and the
peerage her obsession. It would be just like Peter,
thought Patricia, to turn out a lord, just the
ridiculous, inconsequent sort of thing he would
delight in. She was unconscious of any incon-
gruity in thinking of him as Peter. It seemed the
natural thing to do.

She saw by the signs on her aunt's face that she
was nearing a decision. Conscious that she must
not burn her boats, Patricia burst in upon Miss
Brent's thoughts with a suddenness that startled
her.

" If Miss Wangle desires to discuss my friends
with you in future, Aunt Adelaide, I think she
should adopt the names by which they prefer to be
known."

Patricia watched the surprised look upon her
aunt's face, and with dignity met the keen hawk-
like glance that flashed from her eyes.

" If, for reasons of his own," continued Patricia,
" a man chooses to drop his title in favour of his
rank in the army, that I think is a matter for him
to decide, and not one that requires discussion at
Miss Wangle's hands."

Miss Brent's stare convinced Patricia that she
was carrying things off rather well.

" Patricia, where did you meet this Colonel
Peter Bowen ? "

The question came like a thunder-clap to
Patricia's unprepared ears. All her self-com-
placency of a moment before now deserted her.

84 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
She felt her face crimsoning. How she envied
girls who did not blush. What on earth could
she tell her aunt ? Why had an undiscriminating
Providence given her an Aunt Adelaide at all ?
Why had it not bestowed this inestimable treas-
ure upon someone more deserving ? What could
she say ? As well think of lying to Rhadamanthus
as to Miss Brent. Then Patricia had an inspira-
tion. She would tell her aunt the truth, trusting
to her not to believe it.

" Where did I meet him, Aunt Adelaide ? " she
remarked indifferently. " Oh ! I picked him up in
a restaurant ; he looked nice."

" Patricia, how dare you say such a thing before
me/' A slight flush mantled Miss Brent's sallow
cheeks. All the proprieties, all the chastities and
all the moralities banked up behind her in moral
support.

" You ought to feel ashamed of yourself, Pat-
ricia. London has done you no good. What would
your poor dear father have said ? "

" I'm sorry, Aunt Adelaide ; but please remem-
ber I've had a very tiring week, trying to leaven
an unleavenable politician. Shall we drop the
subject of Colonel Bowen for the time being ? "

" Certainly not," snapped Miss Brent. " It is
my duty as your sole surviving relative," how
Patricia deplored that word "surviving," why had
her Aunt Adelaide survived ? " As your sole sur-
viving relative," repeated Miss Brent, " it is my
duty to look after your welfare."

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 85

" But," protested Patricia, " I'm nearly twenty-
five, and I am quite able to look after myself."

" Patricia, it is my duty to look after you."
Miss Brent spoke as if she were about to walk over
heated ploughshares rather than to satisfy a
natural curiosity.

" I repeat," proceeded Miss Brent, " where did
you meet Colonel Bowen ? "

" I have told you, Aunt Adelaide, but you won't
believe me."

" I want to know the truth, Patricia. Is he
really Lord Peter ? " persisted Miss Brent.

' To be quite candid, I've never asked him,"
replied Patricia.

Miss Brent stared at her niece. The obviously
feminine thing was to express surprise ; but Miss
Brent never did the obvious thing. Instead of
repeating, " Never asked him ! " she remained
silent for some moments while Patricia, with great
intentness, proceeded to jerk her gloves into
shape.

" Patricia, you are mad 1 " Miss Brent spoke
with conviction.

Patricia glanced up from her occupation and
smiled at her aunt as if entirely sharing her
conviction.

" It's the price of spinsterhood with some
women," was all she said.

Miss Brent glared at her ; but there wds more
than a spice of curiosity in her look.

' Then you decline to tell me ? " she enquired.

86 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
There was in her voice a note that told of a mind
made up.

Patricia knew from past experience that her
aunt had made up her mind as to her course of
action.

' Tell you what ? " she enquired innocently.

' Whether or no the Colonel Bowen you are
engaged to is Lord Peter Bowen."

Patricia determined to temporise in order to
gain time. She knew Aunt Adelaide to be capable
of anything, even to calling upon Lord Peter
Bowen's family and enquiring if it were he to whom
her niece was engaged. She was too bewildered
to know how to act. It would be so like this
absurd person to turn out to be a lord and make
her still more ridiculous. If he were Lord Peter,
why on earth had he not told her ? Had he thought
she would be dazzled ?

Suddenly there flashed into Patricia's mind an
explanation which caused her cheeks to flame and
her eyes to flash. She strove to put the idea aside
as unworthy of him ; but it refused to leave her.
She had heard of men giving false names to girls
they met — in the way she and Bowen had met.
He had, then, in spite of his protestations, mis-
taken her. In all probability he was not staying
at the Quadrant at all. What a fool she had been.
She had told all about herself, whereas he had told
her nothing beyond the fact that his name was
Peter Bowen. Oh, it was intolerable, humiliating !

The worst of it was that she seemed unable to

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 87
extricate herself from the ever-increasing tangle
arising out of her folly. Miss Wangle and Galvin
House had been sufficiently serious factors, re-
quiring all her watchfulness to circumvent them ;
but now Aunt Adelaide had thrown herself pre-
cipitately into the melee, and heaven alone knew
what would be the outcome !

Had her aunt been a man or merely a woman,
Patricia argued, she would not have been so
dangerous ; but she possessed the deliberate logic
of the one and the quickness of perception of
the other. With her feminine eye she could see,
and with her man-like brain she could judge.

Patricia felt that the one thing to do was to get
rid of her aunt for the day and then think things
over quietly and decide as to her plan of cam-
paign.

" Please, Aunt Adelaide," she said, " don't let's
discuss it any more to-day, I've had such a worry-
ing time at the Bonsors', and my head is so stupid.
Come to tea to-morrow afternoon at half-past five
and I will tell you all, as they say in the novelettes ;
but for heaven's sake don't get talking to those
dreadful old tabbies. They have no affairs of their
own, and at the present moment they simply live
upon mine."

' Very well, Patricia," replied Miss Brent as
she rose to go, " I will wait until to-morrow ; but,
understand me, I am your sole surviving relative
and I have a duty to perform by you. That duty
I shall perform whatever it costs me."

88 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

As Patricia looked into the hard, cold eyes ol
her aunt, she believed her. At that moment Miss
Brent looked as if she represented all the aggres-
sive virtues in Christendom.

" It's very sweet of you, Aunt Adelaide, and
I very much appreciate your interest. I am all
nervy to-day ; but I shall be all right to-morrow.
Don't forget, half-past five here. That will give
me time to get back from the Bonsors'."

Miss Brent pecked Patricia's right cheek and
moved towards the door. " Remember, Patricia,'
she said, as a final shot, " to-morrow I shall ex-
pect a full explanation. I am deeply concerned
about you. I cannot conceive what your poor
dear father would have said had he been alive.'

With this parting shot Miss Brent moved down
the staircase and left Galvin House. As she
stalked to the temperance hotel in Bloomsbury,
where she was staying, she was fully satisfied
that she had done her duty as a woman and a
Christian.

"Sole surviving relative," muttered Patricia as
she turned back after seeing her aunt out. And
then she remembered with a smile that her father
had once said that " relatives were the very
devil." A softness came into her eyes at the
thought of her father, and she remembered another
saying of his, ' ' When you lose your sense oi
humour and your courage at the same time, you
have lost the game."

For a moment Patricia paused, deliberating

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 89

phat she would do. Finally, she walked to the
elephone at the end of the hall. There was a
rimness about her look indicative of a set purpose.
Baking down the receiver she called " Gerrard
»oooo."

There was a pause.

" That the Quadrant Hotel ? " she enquired.
' Is Lord Peter Bowen in ? "

The clerk would enquire.

Patricia waited what seemed an age.

At last a voice cried, " Hullo ! "

" Is that Lord Peter Bowen ? "

" Is that you, Patricia ? " came the reply trom
he other end of the wire.

" Oh, so it is true then ! " said Patricia.

' What's true ? " queried Bowen at the other
nd.

' What I've just said."

' What do you mean ? I don't understand."

" I must see you this evening," said Patricia
n an even voice.

1 That's most awfully good of you."

" It's nothing of the sort."

Bowen laughed. " Shall I come round ? "

"No."

' Will you dine with me ? "
No."
' Well, where shall I see you ? "

Patricia thought for a moment. " I will meet
ou at Lancaster Gate tube at twenty minutes to

Line/-

90 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" All right, I'll be there. Shall I bring the car ?

For a moment Patricia hesitated. She did no
want to go to a restaurant with him, she wante
merely to talk and see how she was to get ou
of the difficulty with Aunt Adelaide. The c
seemed to offer a solution. They could driv
out to some quiet place and then talk without a
chance of being overheard.

' Yes, please, I think that will do admirably."

" Mind you bring a thick coat. Won't you let
me pick you up ? Please do, then you can bring
a fur coat and all that sort of thing, you know."

Again Patricia hesitated for a moment. " Per-
haps that would be the better way," she con-
ceded grudgingly.

" Right-oh ! Will half-past eight do ? "

" Yes, I'll be ready."

" It's awfully kind of you ; I'm frightfully
bucked."

" You had better wait and see, I think," was
Patricia's grim retort. " Good-bye."

" Au revoir."

Patricia put the receiver up with a jerk.

She returned to her room conscious that she was
never able to do herself justice with Bowen. Hei
most righteous anger was always in danger oi
being dissipated when she spoke to him. His
personality seemed to radiate good nature, and lit
always appeared so genuinely glad to see her, oi
hear her voice that it placed her at a disadvantage
khe ought to be stronger and more tenacious o:|

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 91
irpose, she told herself. It was weak to be so
>ily influenced by someone else, especially a
tan who had treated her in the way that Bowen
id treated her ; for Patricia hati now come to
•egard herself as extremely ill-used.

Nothing, she told herself, would have persuaded
ter to ring up Bowen in tlie way she had done,
id it not been for Aunt Adelaide. In her heart
te had to confess that she was very much afraid
>f Aunt Adelaide and what she might do.
Patricia dreaded dinner that evening. She
tew instinctively that everybody would be full
>f Miss Wangle's discovery. She might have
town that Miss Wangle would not be satisfied
itil she had discovered everything there was to
discovered about Bowen.

As Patricia walked along the hall to the stair-
>e, Mrs. Hamilton came out of the lounge.
Patricia put her arm round the fragile waist of the
old lady and they walked upstairs together.

' Well," said Patricia gaily, " what are the old
tabbies doing this afternoon ? "

" My dear ! " expostulated Mrs. Hamilton
gently, " you mustn't call them that, they have so

very little to interest them that — that "

" Oh, you dear, funny little thing ! " said Pat-
ricia, giving Mrs. Hamilton a squeeze which almost
lifted her off her feet. " I think you would find an
excuse for anyone, no matter how wicked. When
I get very, very bad I shall come and ask you
to explain me to myself. I think if you had

92 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
your way you would prove every wolf a sheep
underneath. Come into my room and have a
pow-wow."

Inside her room Patricia lifted Mrs. Hamilton
bodily on to the bed. " Now lie there, you dear
little thing, and have a rest. Dad used to say that
every woman ought to lie on her back for two
hours each day. I don't know why. I suppose it
was to keep her quiet and get her out of the way.
In any case you have got to lie down there."

" But your bed, my dear," protested Mrs.
Hamilton.

" Never mind my bed, you just do as you're
told. Now what are the old cats — I beg your
pardon, what have the — lambs been saying ? "

Mrs. Hamilton smiled in spite of herself. " Well,
of course, dear, we're all very interested to hear
that you are engaged to — Lord Peter Bowen."

" How did they find out ? " interrupted Pat-
ricia.

" Well, it appears that Miss Wangle has a friend
who has a cousin in the War Office."

" Oh, dear ! " groaned Patricia. " I believe
Miss Wangle has a friend who has a cousin in
every known place in the world, and a good many
unknown places," she added. " She has got a
bishop in heaven, innumerable connections in
Mayfair, acquaintances at Court, cousins of
friends at the War Office ; the only place where she
seems to have nobody who has anybody else is
hell."

INTERVENTION OF AUNT ADELAIDE 93

" My dear ! " said Mrs. Hamilton in horror,
" you mustn't talk like that."

" But isn't it true ? " persisted Patricia. " Well,
I'm sorry if I've shocked you. Tell me all about
it."

' Well," began Mrs. Hamilton, " soon after you
had gone out Miss Wangle's friend telephoned in
reply to her letter of enquiry. She told her all
about Lord Peter Bowen, how he had distin-
guished himself in France, won the Military Cross,
the D.S.O., how he had been promoted to the
rank of lieutenant-colonel, and brought back to
the War Office and given a position on the General
Staff. He's a very clever young man, my dear."

Patricia laughed outright at Mrs. Hamilton's
earnestness. ' Why of course he's clever, other-
wise he wouldn't have taken up with such a clever
young woman."

' Well, my dear, I hope you'll be happy," said
Mrs. Hamilton earnestly.

" I doubt it," said Patricia.

" Doubt it ! " There was horror in Mrs. Hamil-
ton's voice. She half raised herself on the bed.
Patricia pushed her back again.

" Never mind, your remark reminds me of a
story about a great-great-grandmother of mine.
A granddaughter of hers had become engaged
and there was a great family meeting to introduce
the poor victim to his future " in-laws." The old
lady was very deaf and had formed the habit of
speaking aloud quite unconscious that others

94 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
could hear her. The wretched young man was
brought up and presented, and everybody was
agog to hear the grandmotherly pronouncement,
for the old lady was as shrewd as she was frank.
She looked at the young man keenly and deliber-
ately, whilst he stood the picture of discomfort,
and turning to her granddaughter, said, " Well,
my dear, I hope you'll be happy, I hope you'll
be very happy," then to herself in an equally loud
voice she added, " But he wouldn't have been my
choice, he wouldn't have been my choice."

" Oh ! the poor dear," said Mrs. Hamilton, see-
ing only the tragic side of the situation.

Patricia laughed. " How like you, you dear
little grey lady," and she bent down and kissed
the pale cheeks, bringing a slight rose flush to
them

It was half -past seven before Mrs. Hamilton
left Patricia's room.

" Heigh-ho ! " sighed Patricia as she undid her
hair, " I suppose I shall have to run the gauntlet
during dinner."

CHAPTER VII

LORD PETER PROMISES A SOLUTION

I^UNDAY suppei at Calvin House was a
cold meal timed for eight o'clock ; but
allowed to remain upon the table until half-
list nine for the convenience of church-goers.

Patricia had dawdled over her toilette, re-
ising, however, to admit that she dreaded the
cdeal before her in the dining-room. When at
1st she could find no excuse for remaining longer
i her room, she descended the stairs slowly, con-
sious of a strange feeling of hesitancy about her
liees.

Outside the dining-room door she paused. Her
i stinct was to bolt ; but the pad-pad of Gus-
tve's approaching footsteps cutting off her re-
tiat decided her. As she entered the dining-
rom the hum of excited conversation ceased
abruptly and, amidst a dead silence, Patricia
v ilked to her seat conscious of a heightened colour
a d a hatred of her own species.

Looking round the table, and seeing how acutely
s .f-conscious everyone seemed, her self-possession
r turned. She noticed a new deference in Gus-
tve's manner as he placed before her a plate of

96 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
cold shoulder of mutton and held the salad-bowl
at her side. Having helped herself Patricia turned
to Miss Wangle, and for a moment regarded her
with an enigmatical smile that made her fidget.

" How clever of you, Miss Wangle," she said
sweetly. " In future no one will ever dare to have
a secret at Galvin House."

Miss Wangle reddened. Mr. Bolton's laugh
rang out.

" Miss Wangle, Private Enquiry Agent/' he
cried, " I "

" Really, Mr. Bolt on ! " protested Mrs. Craske-
Morton, looking anxiously at Miss Wangle's in-
drawn lips and angry eyes.

Mr. Bolton subsided.

" We're so excited, dear Miss Brent," simpered •
Miss Sikkum. " You'll be Lady Bowen "

"Lady Peter Bowen," corrected Mrs. Craske-;
Morton with superior knowledge.

" Lady Peter," gushed Miss Sikkum. " Oh hov'
romantic, and I shall see your portrait in Tk
Mirror. Oh ! Miss Brent, aren't you happy ? "

Patricia smiled across at Miss Sikkum, whosi
enthusiasm was too genuine to cause offence.

" And you'll have cars and all sorts of things,'
remarked Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, thinking of he
solitary blue evening frock, " he's very rich.'

" Worth ten thousand a year," almost shouts i >
Mr. Cordal, striving to regain control over a piec !
of lettuce-leaf that fluttered from his lips, an
having eventually to use his ringers.

LORD PETER PROMISES A SOLUTION 97

You'll forget all about us," said Miss Pilking-
n, who in her capacity as a post-office supervisor
aily showed her contempt for the public whose
rvant she was.

" If you're nice to her," said Mr. Bolton, " she
ay buy her stamps at your place."
Again Mrs. Craske-Morton's "Really, Mr. Bol-
n ! " eased the situation.

Patricia was for the most part silent. She
as thinking of the coming talk with Bowen.
i spite of herself she was excited at the prospect
seeing him again. Miss Wangle also said little,
rom time to time she glanced in Patricia's
rection.

The Wangle's off her feed," whispered Mr.
olton to Miss Sikkum, producing from her a

jle and an " Oh ! Mr. Bolton, you are dread-
1"

Mrs. Barnes was worrying as to whether a lord
lould be addressed as " my lord " or " sir," and
you curtsied to him, and if so how you did it with
leumatism in the knee.

Patricia noticed with amusement the new

iference with which everyone treated her. Mrs.

raske-Morton, in particular, was most solicitous

iat she should make a good meal. Miss Wangle's

lence was in itself a tribute. Patricia nervously

jvaited the moment when Bowen's presence

s.ould be announced.

When the time came Gustave rose to the
ccasion magnificently. Throwing open the

98 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
dining-room door impressively and speaking with
great distinctness he cried :

" Ees Lordship is 'ere, mees," and then after a
moment's pause he added, " 'E 'as brought 'is
car, mees It is at the door."

Patricia smiled in spite of herself at Gustave's
earnestness.

' Very well, Gustave, say I will not be a mo-
ment," she replied and, with a muttered apology
to Mrs. Craske-Morton, she left the table and the
dining-room, conscious of the dramatic tension of
the situation.

Patricia ran down the passage leading to the
lounge, then, suddenly remembering that haste
and happiness were not in keeping with anger and
reproach, entered the lounge with a sedateness
that even Aunt Adelaide could not have found
lacking in maidenly decorum.

Bowen came across from the window and took
both her hands.

" Why was she allowing him to do this ? " she
asked herself. ' Why did she not reproach him,
why did she thrill at his touch, why ?

She withdrew her hands sharply, looked up at
him and then for no reason at all laughed.

How absurd it all was. It was easy to be angry
with him when he was at the Quadrant and she at
Galvin House ; but with him before her, looking
down at her with eyes that were smilingly con-
fident and gravely deferential by turn, she found
her anger and good resolutions disappear.

LORD PETER PROMISES A SOLUTION 99

" I know you are going to bully me, Patricia."
Bowen's eyes smiled ; but there was in his voice
a note of enquiry.

" Oh ! please let us escape before the others come
in sight/' said Patricia, looking over her shoulder
anxiously. " They'll all be out in a moment. I
left them straining at their leashes and swallowing
scalding coffee so as to get a glimpse of a real, li ve
lord at close quarters."

As she spoke Patricia stabbed on a toque.

" Shall I want anything warmer than this ? "
she enquired as Bowen helped her into a long fur-
trimmed coat.

" I brought a big fur coat for you in case it gets
cold," he replied, and he held open the door for
her to pass.

" Quick," she whispered, " they're coming."

As she ran down the steps she nodded brightly
to Gustave, who stood almost bowed down with
the burden of his respect for an English lord.

As Bowen swung the car round, Patricia was
conscious that at the drawing-room and lounge
windows Galvin House was heavily massed.
Unable to find a space, Miss Sikkum and Mr.
Bolton had come out on to the doorstep and, as the
jerked forward, Miss Sikkum waved her pocket
handkerchief.

Patricia shuddered.

For some time they were silent. Patricia was
content to enjoy the unaccustomed sense of swift
movement coupled with the feeling of the luxury

ioo PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
of a Rolls Royce. From time to time Bowen
glanced at her and smiled, and she was conscious
of returning the smile, although in the light of
what she intended to say she felt that smiles were
not appropriate.

The car sped along the Bayswater Road,
threaded its way through Hammersmith Broad-
way and passed over the bridge, across Barnes
Common into Priory Lane, and finally into Rich-
mond Park. Bowen had not mentioned where he
intended to take her, and Patricia was glad. She
was essentially feminine, and liked having things
decided for her, the more so as she invariably had
to decide for herself.

Half-way across the Park Bowen turned in the
direction of Kingston Gate and, a minute later,
drew up just off the roadway. Having stopped the
engine he turned to her.

" Now, Patricia," he said with a smile, " I am
at your mercy. There is no one within hail."

Bowen's voice recalled her from dreamland
She was thinking how different everything might
have been, but for that unfortunate unconvention.
With an effort she came down to earth to find
Bowen smiling into her eyes.

It was an effort for her to assume the indigna-
tion she had previously felt. Bowen's presence
seemed to dissipate her anger. Why had she not
written io him instead of endeavouring to ex-
press verbally what she knew she would fail to
convey ?

LORD PETER PROMISES A SOLUTION 101

" Please don't be too hard on me, Patricia,"
pleaded Bowen.

Patricia looked at him. She wished he would
not smile at her in that way and assume an air of
penitence. It was so disarming. It was unfair.
He was taking a mean advantage. He was always
taking a mean advantage of her, always putting
her in the wrong.

By keeping her face carefully averted from his,
she was able to tinge her voice with indignation as
she demanded :

' Why did you not tell me who you were ? "

" But I did," he protested.

' You said that you were Colonel Bowen, and
you are not." Patricia was pleased to find her
sense of outraged indignation increasing. " You
have made me ridiculous in the eyes of everyone
at Calvin House."

" But," protested Bowen.

" It's no good saying ' but/ " replied Patricia
unreasonably, " you know I'm right."

" But I told you my name was Bowen," he
said " and later I told you that my rank was
that of a lieutenant-colonel, both of which arc
quite correct."

' You are Lord Peter Bowen, and you've made
me ridiculous," then conscious of the absurdity
of her words, Patricia laughed ; but there was no
mirth in her laughter.

" Made you ridiculous," said Bowen, concern in
his voice. " But how ? "

102 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Oh, I am not referring to your boy-messengers
and telegrams, florists' shops, confectioners'
stocks," said Patricia, " but all the tabbies in
Galvin House set themselves to work to find out
who you were and — and — look what an absurd
figure I cut ! Then of course Aunt Adelaide must
butt in."

" Aunt Adelaide ! " repeated Bowen, knitting
his brows. " Tabbies at Galvin House ! "

" If you repeat my words like that I shall
scream," said Patricia, " I wish you would try and
be intelligent. Miss Wangle told Aunt Adelaide
that I'm engaged to Lord Peter Bowen. Aunt
Adelaide then asked me about my engagement,
and I had to make up some sort of story about
Colonel Bowen. She then enquired if it were true
that I was engaged to Lord Peter Bowen. Of
course I said ' No,' and that is where we are at
present, and you've got to help me out. You got
me into the mess."

" Might I enquire who Aunt Adelaide is, please,
Patricia ? "

Bowen's humility made him very difficult to
talk to.

" Aunt Adelaide is my sole surviving relative,
vide her own statement," said Patricia. " If I
had my way she would be neither surviving nor a
relative ; but as it happens she is both, and to-
morrow afternoon at half-past five she is coming
to Galvin House to receive a full explanation of
my conduct."

LORD PETER PROMISES A SOLUTION 103

Bowen compressed his lips and wrinkled his
forehead ; but there was laughter in his eyes.

" It's difficult, isn't it, Patricia ? " he said.

" It's absurd, and please don't call me Pat-
ricia."

" But we're engaged and "

' We're nothing of the sort," she said.

" But we are," protested Bowen. " I can "

" Never mind what you can do," she retorted.
" What am I to tell Aunt Adelaide at half-past five
to-morrow evening ? "

"Why not tell her the truth?" said Bowen.

" Isn't that just like a man ? " Patricia ad-
dressed the query to a deer that was eyeing the
car curiously from some fifty yards distance.
" Tell the truth," she repeated scornfully. " But
how much will that help us ? "

"Well ! let's tell a lie," protested Bowen, smiling.

And then Patricia did a weak and foolish thing,
she laughed, and Bowen laughed. Finally they
sat and looked at each other helplessly.

" However you got those," she nodded at the
ribbons on his breast, " I don't know. It was
certainly not for being intelligent."

For a minute Bowen did not reply. He was
apparently lost in thought. Presently he turned
to Patricia.

" Look here," he said, " by half-past five to-
morrow afternoon I'll have found a solution.
Now cau't we talk about something pleasant ? "

" There is nothing pleasant to talk about when

104 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Aunt Adelaide is looming on the horizon. She's
about the most unpleasant thing next to chil-
blains that I know."

" I suppose," said Bowen tentatively, " you
couldn't solve the difficulty by marrying me by
special licence."

" Marry you by special licence ! " cried Patricia
in amazement.

" Yes, it would put everything right."

" I think you must be mad," said Patricia with
decision ; but conscious that her cheeks were very
hot.

" I think I must be in love," was Bowen's quiet
retort. " Will you ?"

" Not even to escape Aunt Adelaide's interro-
gation would I marry you by special, or any other
licence," said Patricia with decision.

Bowen turned away, a shadow falling across his
face. Then a moment after, drawing his cigarette-
case from his pocket, he enquired, " Shall we
smoke ? "

Patricia accepted the cigarette he offered her.
She watched him as he lighted first hers, then his
own. She saw the frown that had settled upon his
usually happy face, and noted the staccatoed
manner in which he smoked. Then she became
conscious that she had been lacking in not only
graciousness but common civility. Instinctively
*he put out her hand and touched his coat-sleeve.

" Please forgive me, I was rather a beast, wasn't
I ? " she said.

LORD PETER PROMISES A SOLUTION 105

He looked round and smiled ; but the smile did
not reach his eyes.

" Please try and understand," she said, " and
now will you drive me home ? "

Bowen looked at her for a moment, then,
getting out of the car, started the engine, and with-
out a word climbed back to his seat.

The journey back was performed in silence. At
Galvin House Gustave, who was on the look-out,
threw open the door with a flourish.

In saying good night neither referred to the sub-
ject of their conversation.

As Patricia entered, the lounge seemed suddenly
to empty its contents into the hall.

" I hope you enjoyed your ride," said Mr.
Bolton.

" I hate motoring," said Patricia. Then she
walked upstairs with a curt " Good night,"
leaving a group of surprised people speculating as
to the cause of her mood, and deeply commisera-
ting with Bowen.

CHAPTER VIII
LORD PETER'S s.o.s.

THE bath is ready, my lord."
Lord Peter Bowen opened his eyes
as if reluctant to acknowledge that
another day had dawned. He stretched his limbs
and yawned luxuriously. For the next few mo-
ments he lay watching his man, Peel, as he moved
noiselessly about the room, idly speculating as to
whether such precision and self-repression were
natural or acquired.

To Bowen Peel was a source of never-ending
interest. No matter at what hour Bowen had
seen him, Peel always appeared as if he had just
shaved. In his every action there was purpose,
and every purpose was governed by one law —
order. He was noiseless, wordless, selfless. Bowen
was convinced that were he to die suddenly and
someone chance to call, Peel would merely say :
" His Lordship is not at home, sir."

Thin of face, small of stature, precise of move-
ment, Peel possessed the individuality of negation.
He looked nothing in particular, seemed nothing in
particular, did everything to perfection. His face
was a barrier to intimacy, his demeanour a gulf to

1 06

LORD PETER'S S.O.S. 107

the curious : he betrayed neither emotion nor
confidence. In short he was the most perfect
gentleman's servant in existence.

" What's the time, Peel ? " enquired Bowen.

" Seven forty- three, my lord," replied the me-
ticulous Peel, glancing at the clock on the mantel-
piece.

" Have I any engagements to-day ? " queried
his master.

" No, my lord. You have refused to make any
since last Thursday morning."

Then Bowen remembered. He had pleaded
pressure at the War Office as an excuse for declin-
ing all invitations. He was determined that
nothing should interfere with his seeing Patricia
should she unbend. With the thought of Patricia
returned the memory of the previous night's
events. Bowen cursed himself for the mess he
had made of things. Every act of his had seemed
to result only in one thing, the angering of Pat-
ricia. Even then things might have gone well if it
had not been for his wretched bad luck in being
the son of a peer.

As he lay watching Peel, Bowen felt in a mood
to condole with himself. Confound it ! Surely it
could not be urged against him as his fault that
he had a wretched title. He had been given no
say in the matter. As for telling Patricia, could
he immediately on meeting her blurt out, " I'm
a lord ? " Supposing he had introduced himself as
" Lieutenant-Colonel Lord Peter Bowen." Hox*

xo8 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
ridiculous it would have sounded He had corne
to hate the very sound of the word " lord."

" It's ten minutes to eight, my lord."

It was Peel's voice that broke in upon his re-
flections.

" Oh, damn ! " cried Bowen as he threw his legs
out of bed and sat looking at Peel.

" I beg pardon, my lord ? "

" I said damn ! " replied Bowen.

" Yes, my lord."

Bowen regarded Peel narrowly. He was con-
foundedly irritating this morning. He seemed to
be my-lording his master specially to annoy him.
There was, however, no sign upon Peel's features
or in his watery blue eyes indicating that he was
other than in his normal frame of mind.

Why couldn't Patricia be sensible ? Why must
she take up this absurd attitude, contorting every
action of his into a covert insult ? Why above all
things couldn't women be reasonable ? Bowen
rose, stretched himself and walked across to the
bath-room. As he was about to enter he looked
over his shoulder.

" If," he said, " you can arrange to remind me
of my infernal title as little as possible during the
next few days, Peel, I shall feel infinitely obliged."

" Yes, my lord," was the response.

Bowen banged the door savagely, and Peel rang
to order breakfast.

During the meal Bowen pondered over the
events of the previous evening, and in particular

LORD PETER'S S.O.S. 109

over Patricia's unreasonableness. His one source
of comfort was that she had appealed to him to
put things right about her aunt. That would in-
volve his seeing her again. He did not, or would
not, see that he was the only one to whom she
could appeal.

Bowen always breakfasted in his own sitting-
room ; he disliked his fellow-men in the early
morning. Looking up suddenly from the table he
caught Peel's expressionless eye upon him.

" Peel."

" Yes, my lord."

" Why is it that we Englishmen dislike each
other so at breakfast ? "

Peel paused for a moment. " I've heard it said,
my lord, that we're half an inch taller in the morn-
ing, perhaps our perceptions are more acute also."

Bowen looked at Peel curiously.
' You're a philosopher," he said, " and I'm
afraid a bit of a cynic."

" I hope not, my lord," responded Peel.

Bowen pushed back his chair and rose, receiving
from Peel his cap, cane, and gloves.

" By the way," he said, " I want you to ring up
Lady Tanagra and ask her to lunch with me at
half-past one. Tell her it's very important, and
ask her not to fail me."

' Yes, my lord : it shall be attended to."

Bowen went out. Lady Tanagra was Bowen's
Dnly sister. As children they had been inseparable,
forced into an alliance by the overbearing nature

LORD PETER'S S.O.S. in

Marquess had been resolute. " Tanagra I will
lave her christened and Tanagra I will have her
:alled," he had said with a smile that, if it miti-
gated the sternness of his expression, did not in
my way undermine his determination. Lady Mey-
Jield knew her lord, and also that her only chance
of ruling him was by showing unfailing tact. She
:herefore bowed to his decision.

" Poor child ! " she had remarked as she looked

lown at the frail little mite in the hollow of her

irm, " you're certainly going to be made ridicu-

ous ; but I've done my best/' and Lord Meyfield

ad come across the room and kissed his wife with

tie remark, " There you're wrong, my dear, it's

oing to help to make her a great success. Im-

gine, the Lady Tanagra Bowen ; why it would

nake a celebrity of the most commonplace

emale," whereat they had both smiled.

As a child Lady Tanagra had been teased un-
nercifully about her name, so much so that she had
Imost hated it ; but later when she had come to
ove the figurines that were so much part of her
ather's life, she had learned, not only to respect,
>ut to be proud of the name.

To her friends and intimates she was always
'an, to the less intimate Lady Tan, and to the
vorld at large Lady Tanagra Bowen.

She had once found the name extremely use-
ul, when in process of being proposed to by an
indesirable of the name of Black.
" It's no good," she had said, " I could never

H2 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
marry you, no matter what the state of my feel-
ings. Think how ridiculous we should both be,
everybody would call us Black and Tan. Ugh I
it sounds like a whisky as well as a dog." Where-
at Mr Black had laughed and they remained I
friends, which was a great tribute to Lady Tan-
agra.

Exquisitely pretty, sympathetic, witty, human*;
Lady Tanagra Bowen was a favourite wherever
she went. She seemed incapable of making
enemies even amongst her own sex. Her taste hi
dress was as unerring as in literature and art.
Everything she did or said was without effort.
She had been proposed to by " half the eligibles
and all the ineligibles in London," as Bowen
phrased it ; but she declared she would never
marry until Peter married, and had thus got
somebody else to mother him.

At a quarter-past one when Bowen left the War
Office, he found Lady Tanagra waiting in her car
outside.

" Hullo, Tan 1 " he cried, " what a brainy idea,
picking up the poor, tired warrior."

" It'll save you a taxi, Peter. I'll tell you what
to do with the shilling as we go along."

Lady Tanagra smiled up into her brother's face.:
She was always happy with Peter.

As she swung the car across Whitehall to get
into the north-bound stream of traffic, Bowen
looked down at his sister. She handled her big cai
with dexterity and ease. She was a dainty

LORD PETER'S S.O.S. 113

:reature with regular features, violet-blue eyes
md golden hair that seemed to defy all constraint,
fhere was a tilt about her chin that showed
determination, and that about her eyebrows which
suggested something more than good judgment.

" I hope you weren't doing anything to-day,
Fan," said Bowen as they came to a standstill at
:he top of Whitehall, waiting for the removal of a
slue arm that barred their progress.

" I was lunching with the Bolsovers ; but I'm
not well enough, I'm afraid, to see them. It's
measles, you know."

" Good heavens, Tan ! what do you mean ? "

' Well, I had to say something that would be
regarded as a sufficient excuse for breaking a
uncheon engagement of three weeks' standing.
Juite a lot of people were invited to meet me."

"I'm awfully sorry/' began Bowen apolo-
getically.

" Oh, it's all right ! " was the reply as the car
jumped forward. " I shall be deluged with fruit
and flowers now from all sorts of people, because
the Bolsovers are sure to spread it round that I'm
in extremis. To-morrow, however, I shall an-
nounce that it was a wrong diagnosis."

Lady Tanagra drew the car up to the curb out-
side Dent's. " I think " she said, indicating an
old woman selling matches, " we'll give her the
shilling for the taxi Peter, shall we ? "

Peter beckoned the old woman and handed her
a shilling with a smile.

114 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Does it make you feel particularly virtuous to
be charitable with another's money ? " he en-
quired.

Lady Tanagra made a grimace.

Over lunch they talked upon general topics and
about common friends. Lady Tanagra made no
reference to the important matter that had caused
her to be summoned to lunch, even at the expense
of having measles as an excuse. That was char-
acteristic of her. She had nothing of a woman's
curiosity, at least she never showed it, particu-
larly with Peter.

After lunch they went to the lounge for coffee.
When they had been served and both were smok-
ing, Bowen remarked casually, " Got any engage-
ment for this afternoon, Tan ? "

" Tea at the Carlton at half -past four, then I
promised to run in to see the Grahams before
dinner. I'm afraid it will mean more flowers and
fruit. Oh ! " she replied, " I suppose I must stick
to measles. I shall have to buy some thanks for
kind enquiries cards as I go home."

During lunch Bowen had been wondering how
he could approach the subject of Patricia. He
could not tell even Tanagra how he had met her —
that was Patricia's secret. If she chose to tell,
that was another matter ; but he could not. As
a rule he found it easy to talk to Tanagra and
explain things; but this was a little unusual.
Lady Tanagra watched him shrewdly for a
minute or two

LORF PETER'S S.O.S. 115

" I think I should just say it as it comes, Peter,"
she remarked in a casual, matter-of-fact tone.

Bowen started and then laughed.

" What I want is a sponsor for an acquaintance-
ship between myself and a girl. I cannot tell you
everything, Tan, she may decide to ; but of course
you know it's all right."

" Why, of course," broke in Lady Tanagra with
an air of conviction which contained something
of a reproach that he should have thought it
necessary to mention such a thing.

" Well, you've got to do a bit of lying, too, I'm
afraid."

" Oh ! that will be all right. The natural con-
sequence of a high temperature through measles."
Lady Tanagra saw that Bowen was ill at ease, and
sought by her lightness to simplify things for him.

" How long have I known her ? " she proceeded.

" Oh ! that you had better settle with her. All
that is necessary is for you to have met her some-
where, or somehow, and to have introduced me to

her."

V And who is to receive these explanations ? "
enquired Lady Tanagra.

" Her aunt, a gorgon."

v Does the girl know that you are — that I am to
throw myself into the breach ? "

"No," said Peter, "I didn't think to tell her.
I said that I would arrange things. Her name's
Patricia Brent. She's private secretary to Arthur
Bonsor of 426 Eaton Square, and she lives at

n6 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Galvin House Residential Hotel, to give it its full
title, 8 Galvin Street, Bayswater. Her aunt is to
be at Galvin House at half-past five this afternoon,
when I have to be explained to her. Oh ! it's most
devilish awkward, Tan, because I can't tell you
the facts of the case. I wish she were here."

" That's all right, Peter. I'll put things right.
What time does she leave Eaton Square ? "

" Five o'clock, I think."

" Good ! leave it to me. By the way, where shall
you be if I want to get at you ? "

" When ? "

" Say six o'clock."

" I'll be back here at six an$ wait until seven."

" That will do. Now I really must be going.
I've got to telephone to these people about the
measles. Shall I run you down to Whitehall ? "

" No, thanks, I think I'll walk," and with that
he saw her into her car and turned to walk back to
Whitehall, thanking his stars for being possessed
of such a sister and marvelling at her wisdom.
He had not the most remote idea of how she would
achieve her purpose ; but achieve it he was con-
vinced she would. It was notorious that Lady
Tanagra never failed in anything she undertook.

While Bowen and his sister were lunching at the
Quadrant, Patricia was endeavouring to con-
centrate her mind upon her work. ' The egregious
Arthur," as she called him to herself in her more
impatient moments, had been very trying that
morning. He had been in a particularly indeter-

LORD PETER'S S.O.S. 117

minate mood, which involved the altering and
changing of almost every sentence he dictated.
In the usual way he was content to tell Patricia
what he wanted to say, and let her clothe it in
fitting words ; but this morning he had insisted
on dictating every letter, with the result that her
notes had become hopelessly involved and she was
experiencing great difficulty in reading them.
Added to this was the fact that she could not keep
her thoughts from straying to Aunt Adelaide.
What would happen that afternoon ? What was
Bowen going to do to save the situation ? He had
promised to see her through ; but how was he
going to do it ?

CHAPTER IX

LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND

A" a quarter to five Patricia left the library
to go upstairs to put on her hat and coat.
In the hall she encountered Mrs. Bonsor.

" Finished ? " interrogated that lady in a tone of
voice that implied she was perfectly well aware of
the fact that it wanted still a quarter of an hour to
the time at which Patricia was supposed to be free.

" No ; there is still some left ; but I'm going
home," said Patricia. There was something in hei
voice and appearance that prompted Mrs. Bonsor
to smile her artificial smile and remark that she
thought Patricia was quite right, the weather
being very trying.

When she left the Bonsors' house, Patricia was
too occupied with her own thoughts to notice the
large grey car standing a few yards up the square
with a girl at the steering-wheel. Patricia turned
in the opposite direction from that in which the
car stood, making her way towards Sloane Street
to get her bus. She had not gone many steps when
the big car slid silently up beside her, and she
heard a voice say, " Can't I give you a lift to
Galvin House ? "

til

LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND 119
She turned round and saw a fair-haired gir)
smiling at her from the car.

" I— I "

" Jump in, won't you ? " said the girl.
" But — but I think you've made a mistake/"
' You're Patricia Brent, aren't you ? "
" Yes," said Patricia, smiling, " that's my name."
' Well then, jump in and I'll run you up to
Salvin House. Don't delay or you'll be too late
:or your aunt."

Patricia looked at the girl in mute astonishment (
out proceeded to get into the car, there seemed
nothing else to be done. As she did so, the fair-
.laired girl laughed brightly. " It's awfully mean
of me to take such an advantage, but I couldn't
! resist it. I'm Peter's sister, Tanagra."

" Oh ! " said Patricia, light dawning upon her
ind turning to Tanagra with a smile, " Then
• you're the solution ? "

' Yes," said Lady Tanagra, " I'm going to see
you two out of the mers you've somehow or other
j got into."

: Suddenly Patricia stiffened. " Did he — did he
2 er— tell you ? "

" Not he," said Lady Tanagra, shoving on the
! break suddenly to avoid a crawling taxi that had
t swung round without any warning. " Peter
i doesn't talk."

e " But then, how do you ? "

o " Well," said Lady Tanagra, " he told me that
I was to be the one who had introduced him to

120 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
you and explain him to your aunt. It's all over
London that I've got measles, and there will be
simply piles of flowers and fruit arriving at
Grosvenor Square by every possible conveyance."

" Measles ! " cried Patricia uncomprehendingly.

" Yes, you see when Peter wants me I always
have to throw up any sort of engagement, and he
does the same for me. When he asked me to
lunch with him to-day and said it was important,
I had to give some reasonable excuse to three lots
of people to whom I had pledged myself, and I
thought measles would do quite nicely."

Patricia laughed in spite of herself.

" So you don't know anything except that you
have got to "

" Sponsor you," interrupted Lady Tanagra.

For some time Patricia was silent. She felt she
could tell her story to this girl who was so trustful
that everything was all right, and who was willing
to do anything to help her brother.

" Can't we go slowly whilst I talk to you," said
Patricia, as they turned into the Park.

" We'll do better than that," said Lady Tanagra,
" we'll stop and sit down for five minutes." She
pulled up the car near the Stanhope Gate and they
found a quiet spot under a tree.

" I cannot allow you to enter into this affair/'
said Patricia, " without telling you the whole
story. What you will think of me afterwards I
don't know ; but I've got myself into a most
horrible mess."

LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND 121

She then proceeded to explain the whole situation,
how it came about that she had come to know
Bowen and the upshot of the meeting. Lady Tan-
agra listened without interruption and without be-
traying by her expression what were her thoughts.

" And now what do you think of me ? " de-
[manded Patricia when she had concluded.

For a moment Lady Tanagra rested her hand
upon Patricia's. " I think, you goose, that had
you known Peter better there would not have been
so much need for you to worry ; but there isn't
much time and we've got to prepare. Now listen
carefully. First of all you must call me Tan or
Hanagra, and I must call you Patricia or Pat, or
whatever you like. Secondly, as it would take
too long to find out if we've got any friends in
common, you went to the V.A.D. Depot in St.
George's Crescent to see if you could do anything
ito help. There you met me. I'm quite a shining
light there, by the way, and we palled up. This
led to my introducing Peter and — well all the rest
is quite easy."

" But — but there isn't any rest," said Patricia.
" Don't you see how horribly awkward it is ? I'm
supposed to be engaged to him."

" Oh ! " said Lady Tanagra quietly, " that's a
matter for you and Peter to settle between you.
I'm afraid I can't interfere there. All I can do is
to explain how you and he came to know each
other ; and now we had better be getting on as
your aunt will not be pleased if you keep her wait-

122 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
ing. What I propose to do is to pick her up and
take her up to the Quadrant where we shall find
Peter."

" But," protested Patricia, " that's simply
getting us more involved than ever."

" Well, I'm afraid it's got to be," said Lady Tan-
agra, smiling mischievously; "it's much better that
they should meet at the Quadrant than at Galvin
House, where you say everybody is so catty."

Patricia saw the force of Lady Tanagra's argu-
ment, and they were soon whirling on their way
towards Galvin House. She wanted to pinch her-
self to be quite sure that she was not dreaming.
Everything seemed to be happening with such
rapidity that her brain refused to keep pace with
events. Why had she not met these people in a
conventional way so that she might preserve their
friendship ? It was hard luck, she told herself.

" Would you mind telling me what you propose
doing ? " enquired Patricia.

" I promised Peter to gather up the pieces/'
was the response. "All you've got to do is to
remain quiet."

Lady Tanagra brought the car up in front of
Galvin House with a magnificent sweep. Gustave,
who had been on the watch, swung open the door
in his most impressive manner.

As Patricia and Lady Tanagra entered the
lounge, Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe
were addressing pleasantries to a particularly
grim Miss Brent.

LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND 123

" Oh, here you are ! " Miss Brent's exclama-
tion was uttered in such a voice as to pierce even
the thick skin of Miss Wangle, who having in-
stantly recognised Lady Tanagra, retired with
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe a few yards, where they
carried on a whispered conversation, casting
significant glances at Lady Tanagra, Miss Brent
and Patricia.

" I told Patricia that it was time the families
met," said Lady Tanagra, " and so I insisted on
coming when I heard you were to be here."

" I think you are quite right."

Patricia was surprised at the change in her aunt.
Much of her usual uncompromising downrightness
had been shed, and she appeared almost gracious.
For one thing she was greatly impressed at the
hought that Patricia was to become Lady Peter
Bowen. As the aunt of Lady Peter Bowen, Miss
Brent saw that her own social position would be
:onsiderably improved. She saw herself taking
precedence at Little Milstead and issuing its social
.ife and death warrants. Apart from these con-
siderations Miss Brent was not indifferent to Lady
Tanagra's personal charm.

Tan's parlour tricks," as Godfrey Elton called
:hem, were notorious. Everyone was aware of
:heir existence ; yet everyone fell an instant
victim. A compound of earnestness, deference,
^leading, irresistible impertinence and dignity,
.hey formed a dangerous weapon.

Lady Tanagra's position among her friends and

124 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
acquaintance was unique. When difficulties and
contentions arose, the parties' instinctive impulse
was to endeavour to invest her interest. " Tan-
agra is so sensible," outraged parenthood would
exclaim ; " Tan's such a sport. She'll under-
stand," cried rebellious youth. People not only
asked Lady Tanagra's advice, but took it. The
secret of her success, unknown to herself, was her
knowledge of human nature. Even those against
whom she gave her decisions bore her no ill-will.

Her manner towards Miss Brent was a mixture
of laughter and seriousness, with deft little touches
of deference.

" I've come to apologize for everybody and
everything, Miss Brent," she cried ; " but in
particular for myself." Lady Tanagra chatted on
gaily, " sparring for an opening," Elton called it.

" You mustn't blame Patricia," she bubbled in
her soft musical voice, " it's all Peter's fault, and
where it's not his fault it's mine," she proceeded
illogically. " You won't be hard on us, will you ? "
She looked up at Miss Brent with the demureness
of a child expecting severe rebuke for some
naughtiness.

Miss Brent's eyes narrowed and the firm line of
her lips widened. Patricia recognised this as the
outward evidences of a smile.

" I confess, I am greatly puzzled," began Miss
Brent.

" Of course you must be," continued Lady
lanagra, " and if you were not so kind you would

LADY TANAGRA T^KES A HAND 125
be very cross, especially with me. Now," she con-
tinued, without giving Miss Brert a chance of
replying, " I want you to do me a very great
favour."

Lady Tanagra paused impressively, and gave
Miss Brent her most pleading look.

Miss Brent looked at Lady Tanagra with just a
tinge of suspicion in her pea-soup coloured eyes.

" May I ask what it is ? " she enquired
guardedly.

I want you to let me carry you off to a quiet
lace where we can talk."

Miss Brent rose at once. She disliked Galvin
ouse and the inquisitive glances of its inmates.

I told Peter to be at the Quadrant until seven.
e is very anxious to meet you," continued Lady
anagra as they moved towards the door. " I
ould not let him come here as I thought, from
hat Patricia has told me, that you would not

e — to " She paused.

You are quite right, Lady Tanagra," said
iss Brent with decision. " I do not like board-
g-houses. They are not the places for the dis-
ssion of family affairs."

Patricia descended the steps of Galvin House,
ot quite sure whether this were reality or a
earn. She watched Miss Brent seat herself be-
ide Lady Tanagra, whilst she herself entered the
onneau of the car. As the door clicked and the
sprang forward, she caught a glimpse of eager
aces at the windows of Galvin House.

126 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

As they swung into the Park and hummed
along the even road, Patricia endeavoured to
bring herself to earth. She pinched herself until
it hurt. What had happened ? She felt like some-
one present at her own funeral. Her fate was
being decided without anyone seeming to think
it necessary to consult her.

" By half -past five to-morrow afternoon I shall
have found a solution." Bowen's words came
back to her. He was right. Lady Tanagra was
indeed a solution. Patricia and Miss Brent were
merely lay-figures. It must be wonderful to be
able to make people do what you wished, she
mused. She wondered what would have hap-
pened had Bowen possessed his sister's powers.

At the Quadrant Peel was waiting in the vesti-
bule. With a bow that impressed Miss Brent, he
conducted them to Bowen's suite. As they
entered Bowen sprang up from a writing-table.
Patricia noticed that there was no smell of tobacco t
smoke. The Bowens were a wonderful family t
she decided, remembering her aunt's prejudices.

" I have only just heard you were in town," she
heard Bowen explaining to Miss Brent. " I rang
up Patricia this morning, but she could not i
remember your address."

Patricia gasped ; but, seeing the effect of the n
" grey lie " (it was not quite innocent enough ?
to be called a white lie, she told herself) she for-
gave it.

During tea Lady Tanagra and Bowen set to

LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND 127
ork to " play themselves in," as Lady Tanagra
fterwards expressed it.

Poor Aunt Adelaide," Patricia murmured to
If, " they'll turn her giddy young head."
And now," Lady Tanagra began when Bowen
d taken Miss Brent's cup from her. " I must
lain all about this little romance and how it
e about."

Patricia caught Bowen's eye, and saw in it a
ok of eager interest.

Patricia wanted to do war work in her spare
e." continued Lady Tanagra, " so she applied
the V.A.D. at St. George's Crescent. I am on
e committee and, by a happy chance," Lady
agra smiled across to Patricia, " she was sent
to me. I saw she was not strong and dis-
aded her."

Miss Brent nodded approval.
I explained," continued Lady Tanagra, " that
work was very hard, and that it was not
cessarily patriotic to overwork so as to get ill.
;, Ibctors have quite enough to do."
; I] Again Miss Brent nodded agreement.

I think we liked each other from the first,"
Lady Tanagra smiled across at Patricia,
d I asked her to come and have tea with
and we became friends. Finally, one day
en we were enjoying a quiet talk here in the
.nge, this big brother of mine comes along and
spils everything." Lady Tanagra regarded
Bwen with reproachful eyes.

128 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Spoiled everything ? " enquired Miss Brent.

" Yes ; by falling in love with my friend, and
in a most treacherous manner she must do the
same.'* Lady Tanagra's tone was matter-of-fact
enough to deceive a misanthropist.

Patricia's cheeks burned and her eyes fell
beneath the gaze of the others. She felt as a man
might who reads his own obituary notices.

"And why was I not told, her sole surviving!
relative ? " Miss Brent rapped out the question I
with the air of a counsel for the prosecution.

" That was my fault," broke in Bowen.

Three pairs of eyes were instantly turned uponi
him. Miss Brent suspicious, Lady Tanagra ad-
miring, Patricia wondering.

" And why, may I ask ? " enquired Miss Brent. <!

" I wanted it to be a secret between Patricia
and me," explained Bowen easily.

" But, Lady Tanagra " There was a note ir ' t

Miss Brent's voice that Patricia recognised as '<. I
soldier does the gas-gong.

" Oh ! " replied Bowen, " she finds out every ' '
thing ; but I only told her at lunch to-day."

" And he told me as if I had not already dis t

covered the fact for myself," laughed Lad]
Tanagra.

" Patricia wanted to tell you," continue!
Bowen. " She has often talked of you (Patrici J
felt sure Aunt Adelaide must hear her start c i:
surprise) ; but I wanted to wait until we could g
to you together and confess." Bowen smile :

LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND 129
kraight into his listener's eyes, a quiet, friendly
pile that would have disarmed a gorgon.

For a few moments there was silence. Miss
Lrent was thinking, thinking as a judge thinks
rho is about to deliver sentence.

" And Lady Meyfield, does she know ? " she
Inquired.

I Without giving Bowen a chance to reply Lady
Linagra rushed in as if fearful that he might
lake a false move.

That is another of Peter's follies, keeping it
>m mother. He argued that if the engagement
•e officially announced, the family would take
:> all Patricia's time, and he would see nothing of
Oh ! Peter's very selfish sometimes, I am
to say; but," she added with inspiration,
:very thing will have to come out now."
" Of course ! " Patricia started at the de-
ion in Miss Brent's tone. She looked across at
»wen, who was regarding Lady Tanagra with an
iration that amounted almost to reverence.
!j he looked up Patricia's eyes fell. What was
ppening to her ? She was getting further into
net woven by her own folly. Lady Tanagra
getting them out of the tangle into which they
d got themselves ; but was she not involving
:m in a worse? Patricia knew her aunt, Lady
.agra did not. Therein lay the key to the whole
uation.

iss Brent rose to go. Patricia saw that judg-
:nt was to DC deferred. She shook hands with

130 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Lady Tanagra and Bowen and, finally, turning to
Patricia said :

" I think, Patricia, that you have been very
indiscreet in not taking me into your confidence,
your sole surviving relative," and with that she
went, having refused Lady Tanagra's offer to
drive her to her hotel, pleading that she had
another call to make.

When Bowen returned from seeing Miss Brent
into a taxi, the three culprits regarded each other.
All felt that they had come under the ban of Miss
Brent's displeasure. It was Lady Tanagra who
broke the silence.

" Well, we're all in it now up to the neck," she
laughed.

Bowen smiled happily ; but Patricia looked
alarmed. Lady Tanagra went over to her anc
bending down kissed her lightly on the cheek
Patricia looked up, and Bowen saw that her eye;
were suspiciously moist. With a murmurec
apology about a note he was expecting he left th<
room.

That night the three dined at the Quadrant
" to get to know each other," as Lady Tanagi;
said. When Patricia reached Galvin House
having refused to allow Bowen to see her home
she was conscious of having spent another happ;
evening.

" Up to the neck in it," she murmured as sh
tossed back her hair and began to brush it for th
night, " over the top of our heads, I should say.

CHAPTER X

MISS BRENT'S STRATEGY

HAVING become reconciled to what she
regarded as Patricia's matrimonial plans,
although strongly disapproving of her
deplorable flippancy, Miss Brent decided that
her niece's position must be established in the eyes
of her prospective relatives-in-law.

Miss Brent was proud of her family, but still
prouder of the fact that the founder had come
over with that extremely dubious collection of
notables introduced into England by William of
Normandy. To Miss Brent, William the Con-
queror was what The Mayflower is to all ambitious
lericans — a social jumping-off point. There
rere no army lists in 1066, or passengers' lists in
[620.

No one could say with any degree of certainty
/hat it was that Geoffrey Brent did for, or knew
ibout, his ducal master ; but it was sufficiently
iportant to gain for him a grant of lands, which
ic had no more right to occupy than the Norman
id to bestow.
After careful thought Miss Brent had decided
ipon her line of operations. Geoffrey Brent was to

132 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
be used as a corrective to Patricia's occupation.
No family, Miss Brent argued, could be expected
to welcome with open arms a girl who earned her
living as the secretary of an unknown member of
parliament. She foresaw complications, fierce
opposition, possibly an attempt to break off the
engagement. To defeat this Geoffrey Brent was
to be disinterred and flung into the conflict, and
Patricia was to owe to her aunt the happiness that
was to be hers. Incidentally Miss Brent saw in
this circumstance a very useful foundation upon
which to build for herself a position in the future.

Miss Brent had made up her mind upon two
points. One that she would call upon Lady
Meyfield, the other that Patricia's engagement
must be announced. Debrett told her all she
wanted to know about the Bowens, and she
strongly disapproved of what she termed "hole-
in-the-corner engagements." The marriage of a
Brent to a Bowen was to her an alliance, carrying
with it certain social responsibilities, consequently
Society must be advised of what was impending.
Romance was a by-product that did not concern
either Miss Brent or Society.

Purpose and decision were to Miss Brent what
wings and tail are to the swallow : they propelled
and directed her. Her mind once made up, to
change it would have appeared to Miss Brent an
unpardonable sign of weakness. Circumstances
might alter, thrones totter, but Miss Brent's
decisions would remain unshaken.

MISS BRENT'S STRATEGY 133

On the day following her meeting with Lady
Tanagra and Bowen, Miss Brent did three things.
She transferred to " The Mayfair Hotel " for one
night, she prepared an announcement of the
engagement for The Morning Post, and she set out
to call upon Lady Meyfield in Grosvenor Square.

The transference to " The Mayfair Hotel "
served a double purpose. It would impress the
people at the newspaper office, and it would also
show that Patricia's kinswoman was of some
importance.

As Patricia was tapping out upon a typewriter
the halting eloquence of Mr. Arthur Bonsor, Miss
Brent was being whirled in a taxi first to the office
of The Morning Post and then on. to Grosvenor
Square.

11 1 fully appreciate," tapped Patricia with
wandering attention, " the national importance of
pigs."

" Miss Brent ! " announced Lady Meyfield's
butler.

Miss Brent foun I herself gazing into a pair of
violet eyes that were smiling a greeting out of a
gentle face framed in white hair.

" How do you do ! " Lady Meyfield was
endeavouring to recall where she could have met
her caller.

" I felt it was time the families met," announced
Miss Brent.

Lady Meyfield smiled, that gentle reluctant

134 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
smile so characteristic of her. She was puzzled;
but too well-bred to show it.

" Won't you have some tea ? " She looked about
her, then fixing her eyes upon a dark man in khaki,
with smouldering eyes, called to him, introduced
him, and had just time to say :

" Godfrey, see that Miss Brent has some tea,"
when a rush of callers swept Miss Brent and
Captain Godfrey Elton further into the room.

Miss Brent looked about her with interest. She
had read of how Lady Meyfield had turned her
houses, both town and country, into convalescent
homes for soldiers ; but she was surprised to see
men in hospital garb mixing freely with the other
guests. Elton saw her surprise.

" Lady Meyfield has her own ideas of what is
best," he remaiked as he handed her a cup of tea.

Miss Brent looked up interrogatingly.

" She had some difficulty at first," continued
Elton ; " but eventually she got her own way as
she always does. Now the official hospitals send
her their most puzzling cases and she cures them."

" How ? " enquired Miss Brent with interest.

" Imagination," said Elton, bowing to a pretty
brunette at the other side of the room. " She is
too wise to try and fatten a canary on a dog
biscuit."

" Does she keep canaries then ? " enquired Miss
Brent.

"I'm afraid that was only my clumsy effort at
metaphor," responded Elton with a disarming

MISS BRENT'S STRATEGY 135

smile. " She adopts human methods. They are
generally successful."

Elton went on to describe something of the
success that had attended Lady Meyfield's hostels,
as she called them. They were famous throughout
the Service. When war broke out someone had
suggested that she should use her tact and know-
ledge of human nature in treating cases that defied
the army M.O.'s. " A tyrant is the first victim of
tact," Godfrey Elton had said of Lord Meyfield,
and in his ready acquiescence in his lady's plans
Lord Meyfield had tacitly concurred.

Lady Meyfield had conferred with her lord in
i-espect to all her plans and arrangements, until he
had come to regard the hostels as the children of
his own brain, admirably controlled and con-
ducted by his wife. He seldom appeared, keeping
to the one place free from the flood of red, white,
and blue — his library. Here with his books and
terra-cottas he " grew old with a grace worthy of
his rank," as Elton phrased it.

Lady Meyfield's " cases " were mostly those of
shell-shock, or nervous troubles. She studied each
patient's needs, and decided whether he required
diversion or quiet : if diversion, he was sent to her
town house ; if quiet, he went to one of her country
houses.

At first it had been thought that a woman could
not discipline a number of men ; but Lady Mey-
field had settled this by allowing them to dis-
cipline themselves. All misdemeanours were re-

136 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
ported to and judged by a committee of five
elected by ballot from among the patients. Their
decisions were referred to Lady Meyfield for
ratification. The result was that in no military
hospital, or convalescent home, in the country was
the discipline so good.

Miss Brent listened perfunctorily to Elton's
description of Lady Meyfield's success. She had
not come to Grosvenor Square to hear about
hostels, or the curing of shell-shocked soldiers, and
her eyes roved restlessly about the room.

' You know Lord Peter ? " she enquired at
length.

" Intimately/' Elton replied as he took her cup
from her.

" Do you like him ? " Miss Brent was always
direct.

" Unquestionably." Elton's tone was that of
a man who found nothing unusual either in the
matter or method of interrogation.

" Is he steady ? " was the next question.

" As a rock," responded Elton, beginning to
enjoy a novel experience.

1 Why doesn't he live here ? " demanded Miss
Brent.

" Who, Peter ? "

Miss Brent nodded.

"No room. The soldiers, you know," he added.

" No room for her own son ? " Miss Brent's
tone was in itself an accusation against Lady Mey-
field of unnaturalness.

MISS BRENT'S STRATEGY 137

" Oh ! Peter understands/' was Elton's explana-

I tion.

" Oh ! " Miss Brent looked sharply at him. For

j a minute there was silence.

I "You have been wounded?" Miss Brent in-
dicated the blue band upon his arm. Her question
arose, not from any interest she felt ; but she
required time in which to reorganise her attack.

" I am only waiting for my final medical board,
as I hope," Elton replied.

' You know Lady Tanagra ? " Miss Brent was
ieeling some annoyance with this extremely self-
possessed young man.

1 Yes," was Elton's reply. He wondered if the
next question would deal with her steadiness.

I suppose you are a friend of the family ? "
was Miss Brent's next question.
Elton bowed.

" Good afternoon, sir." The speaker was a
soldier in hospital blue, a rugged little man known
among his fellows as " Uncle."

U" Hullo ! Uncle, how are you ? " said Elton,
aking hands.

Miss Brent noticed a warmth in Elton's tone
that was in marked contrast to the even tone of

urtesy with which he had answered her ques-
tions.

" Oh, just 'oppin' on to 'eaven, sir," replied
Uncle. " Sort of sittin' up an' takin' notice."

Elton introduced Uncle to Miss Brent, an act
that seemed to her quite unnecessary.

138 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" And where were you wounded ? " asked Miss
Brent conventionally.

" Clean through the buttocks, mum," replied
Uncle simply.

Miss Brent flushed and cast a swift glance at
Elton, whose face showed no sign. She turned to
Uncle and regarded him severely ; but he was
blissfully unaware of having offended.

" Can't sit down now. mum. without it 'urtin '
added Uncle, interpreting Miss Brent's steady
gaze as betokening interest.

" Oh, Goddy ! I've been trying to fi^htmy way
across to you for hours." The pretty brunette to
whom Elton had bowed joined the group. ''I've
been giving you the glad eye all the afternoon

and you merely bow. Well, Uncle, how's the
wound ? "

Miss Brent gasped. She was unaware that
Uncle's wound was the standing joke among all
Lady Meyfield's guests.

" Oh ! I'm gettin' on, thank you," said Uncle
cheerfully. " Mustn't complain."

" Isn't he a darling ? " The girl addressed her-
self to Miss Brent, who merely stared.

" Do you refer to Uncle or to me ? " enquired
Elton.

" Why both, of course ; but — " she paused and,
screwing up her piquante little face in thought
she added, " but I think Uncle's the darlingei
though, don't you ? '

Again she challenged Miss Brent.

MISS BRENT'S STRATEGY 139

" Good job my missis can't 'ear 'er," was Uncle's
comment to Elton.

' There, you see ! " cried the girl gaily, '* Uncle
talks about his wife when I make love to him, and
as for Goddy," she turned and regarded Elton
with a quizzical expression, " he treats my pas-
sion with a look that clearly says prunes and
prisms."

Miss Brent's head was beginning to whirl.
Somewhere at the back of her mind was the un-
uttered thought, What would Little Milstead
think of such conversation ? She was brought
back to Lady Meyfield's drawing-room by hearing
the brunette once more addressing her.

' They're the two most interesting men in the
room. I call them the Dove and the Serpent.
Uncle has the guilelessness of the dove, whilst
Godfrey has all the wisdom of the serpent. The
three of us together would make a most perfect
Garden of Eden. Wouldn't we, Goddy ? "

' You are getting a little confused, Peggy," said
Elton. ' This is not a fancy dress "

" Stop him, someone ! " cried the brunette, " he's
going to say something naughty."

Elton smiled, Miss Brent continued to stare,
whilst Uncle with a grin of admiration cried :

" Lor', don't she run on ! "

" Now come along, Uncle ! " cried the girl. " I've
found some topping chocolates, a new kind.
They're priceless," and she dragged Uncle off to
the end of the table.

PATRICIA BRENT. SPINSTER

" Who was that ? " demanded Miss Brent of
Elton, disapproval in her look and tone.

" Lady Peggy Bristowe," replied Elton.

Miss Brent was impressed. The Bristowes
traced their ancestry so far back as to make
William the Norman's satellites look almost up-
starts.

" She , is a little overpowering at first, isn't
she ? " remarked Elton, smiling in spite of himself
at the conflicting emotions depicted upon Miss
Brent's face ; but Lady Peggy gave her no time to
reply. She was back again like a shaft of April
sunshine.

" Here, open your mouth, Goddy," she cried,
" they're delicious."

Elton did as he was bid, and Lady Peggy popped
a chocolate in, then wiping her finger and thumb
daintily upon a ridiculously small piece of cambric,
she stood in front of Elton awaiting his verdict.

" Like it ? " she demanded, her head on one side
like a bird, and her whole attention concentrated
upon Elton.

" Apart from a suggestion of furniture polish,"
began Elton, " it is "

" Hun ! " cried Lady Peggy as she whisked
over to where she had left Uncle.

" Lady Peggy is rather spoiled," said Elton
to Miss Brent. " I fear she trades upon having the
prettiest ankles in London."

Miss Brent turned upon Elton one glance, then
with head in air and lips tightly compressed, she

MISS BRENT'S STRATEGY 141

stalked away. Elton watched her in surprise,
unconscious that his casual reference to the
ankles of the daughter of a peer had been to Miss
Brent the last straw.

" Hate at the prow and virtue at the helm/' he
murmured as she disappeared.

Miss Brent was now convinced beyond all
power of argument to the contrary that her call
had landed her in the very midst of an ultra-fast
set. She was unaware that Godfrey Elton was
notorious among his friends for saying the wrong
thing to the right people.

' You never know what Godfrey will say," his
Aunt Caroline had remarked on one occasion when
he had just confided to the vicar that all intro-
spective women have thick ankles, " and the dear
vicar is so sensitive."

It seemed that whenever Elton elected to emerge
from the mantle of silence with which he habitually
clothed himself, it was in the presence of either a
sensitive vicar or someone who was sensitive with-
out being a vicar.

Once when Lady Gilcray had rebuked him for
openly admiring Jenny Adam's legs, which were
displayed each night to an appreciative public at
the Futility Theatre, Elton had replied, " A
woman's legs are to me what they are to God,"
which had silenced her Ladyship, who was not
quite sure whether it was rank blasphemy or a
classical quotation ; but she never forgave him.

Miss Brent made several efforts to approach

142 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Lady Meyfield to have a few minutes' talk with
her about the subject of her call ; but without
success. She was always surrounded either by
arriving or departing guests, and soldiers seemed
perpetually hovering about ready to pounce upon
her at the first opportunity.

At last Miss Brent succeeded in attracting her
hostess' attention, and before she knew exactly
what had happened, Lady Meyfield had shaken
hands, thanked her for coming, hoped she would
come again soon, and Miss Brent was walking
downstairs her mission unaccomplished. Her only
consolation was the knowledge that within the
next daji or two The Morning Post would put
matters upon a correct footing.

A mile away Patricia was tapping out upon her
typewriter that " pigs are the potential saviours
of the Empire."

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS

WELL, me dear, how goes it ? "
Patricia looked up from a Blue
Book, from which she was laboii-
msly extracting statistics. Mr. Triggs stood befoie
ler, florid and happy. He was wearing a new
>lack and white check suit, a white waistcoat and
L red tie, whilst in his hand he carried a white felt
op-hat with a black band.

' It doesn't go at all well," said Patricia,
miling.

" What's the matter, me dear ? " he enquired
Anxiously. " You look- fagged out."

" Oh ! I'm endeavouring to extract information
.bout potatoes from stupid Blue Books," said
^atricia, leaning back in her chair. " Why can't
hey let potatoes grow without writing about
hem ? " she asked plaintively, screwing up her
yebrows.
1 'E ain't much good, is 'e ? '* enquired Mr.

-nggs.

1 Who ? " asked Patricia in surprise.

"A. B. " said Mr. Triggs, lowering his voice and
ooking round furtively, " Dull, 'e strikes me."

143

144 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Well, you see, Mr. Triggs, he's rising, and you -i
can't rise and be risen at the same time, can you ?

Mr. Triggs shook his head doubtfully. " 'E'll nc
more rise than your salary, me dear," he said.

"Oh! what a gloomy person you are to-day,
Mr. Triggs, and you look like a ray of sunshine."

" D'you like it ? " enquired Mr. Triggs, smiling
happily as he stood back that Patricia might
obtain a good view of his new clothes. She no\
saw that over his black boots he wore a pair oi
immaculate white spats.

" You look just like a duke. But where are you
going, and why all this splendour ? " asked
Patricia.

Mr. Triggs beamed upon her. " I'm glad you
like it, me dear. I was thinking about you when I
ordered it."

Patricia looked up and smiled. There was
something to her strangely lovable in this old
man's simplicity.

" I come to take you to the Zoo," he announced.

' To the Zoo ? " cried Patricia in unfeigned

surprise.

Mr. Triggs nodded, hugely enjoying the effect
of the announcement.

" Now run away and get your hat on."

" But I couldn't possibly go, I've got heaps o!
things to do," protested Patricia. " Why Mrs
Bonsor would be "

"Never you mind about 'Ettie ; I'll manag<
•er. She'" "

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS 145

" I thought I heard your voice, father."

Both Patricia and Mr. Triggs started guiltily ;
they had not heard Mrs. Bonsor enter the room.

' 'Ullo, 'Ettie ! " said Mr. Triggs, recovering
himself. " I just come to take this young lady to
the Zoo."

" Do I look as bad as all that ? " asked
Patricia, conscious that her effort was a feeble
one.

" Don't you worry about your looks, me dear,"
said Mr. Triggs, " I'll answer for them. Now go
and get your 'at on."

" But I really couldn't, Mr. Triggs," protested
Patricia.

" I'm afraid it's impossible for Miss Brent to go
to-day, father," said Mrs. Bonsor evenly ; but
flashing a vindictive look at Patricia.

' Why ? " enquired Mr. Triggs.

" I happen to know," continued Mrs. Bonsor,

that Arthur is very anxious for some work that
Miss Brent is doing for him."

' What work ? " enquired Mr. Triggs.

" Oh — er — something about " Mrs. Bonsor

looked appealingly at Patricia ; but Patricia had
no intention of helping her out.

' Well ! if you can't remember what it is, it
can't matter much, and I've set my mind on going
to the Zoo this afternoon."

' Very well, father. If you will wait a few
minutes I will go with you myself."

' You ! " exclaimed Mr. Triggs in consternation.

[46 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" You and me at the Zoo ! Why you said once

the smell made you sick."

" Father ! how can you suggest such a thing ? "

" But you did," persisted Mr. Triggs.

" I once remarked that I found the atmosphere
a little trying."

" Won't you come into the morning-room,
father, there's something I want to speak to you
about."

" No, I won't," snapped Mr. Triggs like a spoilt
child, " I'm going to take Miss Brent to the Zoo."

" But Arthur's work, father " began Mrs.

Bonsor.

"Very well then, 'Ettie," said Mr. Triggs, "you
better tell A. B. that I'd like to 'ave a little talk
with 'im to-morrow afternoon at Streatham, at;
three o'clock sharp. See ? Don't forget ! "

Mr. Triggs was angry, and Mrs. Bonsor realised
that she had gone too far. Turning to Patricia she
said :

" Do you think it would matter if you put off
what you are doing until to-morrow, Miss Brent ? "
she enquired.

" I think I ought to do it now, Mrs. Bonsor,"]
replied Patricia demurely, determined to land
Mrs. Bonsor more deeply into the mire if possible.
1 Well, if you'll run away and get your hat on,
I will explain to Mr. Bonsor when he comes in."

Patricia looked up, Mrs. Bonsor smiled at her, a
frosty movement of her lips, from which her eyes
seemed to dissociate themselves.

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS 147

During Patricia's absence Mr. Triggs made it
abundantly clear to his daughter that he was dis-
pleased with her.

" Look 'ere, 'Ettie, if I 'ear any more of this
nonsense," he said, " I'll take on Miss Brent as
my own secretary, then I can take her to the Zoo
every afternoon if I want to."

A look of fear came into Mrs. Bonsor's eyes.
One of the terrors of her life was that some
designing woman would get hold of her father
and marry him. It did not require a very great
effort of the imagination to foresee that the next
step would be the cutting off of the allowance
Mr. Triggs made his daughter. Suppose Patricia
were to marry her father ? What a scandal and
what a humiliation to be the stepdaughter of her
husband's ex-secretary. Mrs. Bonsor determined
to capitulate.

" I'm very sorry, father ; but if you had let
us know we could have arranged differently.
However, everything is all right no,v."

" No it isn't," said Mr. Triggs peevishly.
1 You've tried to spoil my afternoon. Fancy you
a-coming to the Zoo with me. You with your
'igh and mighty ways. The truth is you're
ashamed of your old father, although you ain't
ashamed of 'is money."

It was with a feeling of gratitude that Mrs.
Eonsor heard Patricia enter the room.

" I'm ready, Mr. Triggs," she announced,
smiling.

148 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

Mr. Triggs followed her out of the room without
a word.

" You'll explain to Mr. Bonsor that I've been
kidnapped, will you not ? " said Patricia to Mrs.
Bonsor, rather from the feeling that something
should be said than from any particular desire
that Mr. Bonsor should be placated.

" Certainly, Miss Brent," replied Mrs. Bonsor,
with another unconvincing smile. " I hope you'll
have a pleasant afternoon."

' Tried to spoil my afternoon, she did,"
mumbled Mr. Triggs in the tone of a child who
has discovered that a playmate has endeavoured
to rob him of his marbles.

Patricia laughed and, slipping her hand through
his arm, said :

" Now, you mustn't be cross, or else you'll
spoil my afternoon, and we're going to have such
a jolly time together."

Instantly th j shadow fell from Mr. Triggs's face
and he turned upon Patricia and beamed, pressing
her hand against his side. Then with another sud-
den change he said, " 'Ettie annoys me when she's
like that ; but I've given 'er something to think
about," he added, pleased at the recollection of his
parting shot.

Patricia smiled at him, she never made any
endeavour to probe into the domestic difficulties
of the Triggs-Bonsor menage.

" Do you know what I told 'er ? " enquirea
Mr. Triggs.

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS 149

Patricia shook her head.

" I said that if she wasn't careful I'd engage
you as my own secretary. That made 'er sit
up." He chuckled at the thought of his master-
stroke.

" But you've got nothing for me to secretary,
Mr. Triggs," said Patricia, not quite understanding
where the joke came.

" Ah ! 'Ettie understands. 'Ettie knows that
every man that ain't married marries 'is secretary,
and she's dead afraid of me marrying."

" Am I to take that as a proposal, Mr.
Triggs ? " asked Patricia demurely.

Mr. Triggs chuckled.

" Now we'll forget about everything except that
we are truants," cried Patricia. " I've earned a
holiday, I think. On Sunday and Monday there
was Aunt Adelaide, yesterday it was national
importance of pigs and "

"Hi! Hi! Taxi! Taxi!" Mr. Triggs yelled,
dashing forward and dragging Patricia after him.
A taxi was crossing a street about twenty yards
distance. Mr. Triggs was impulsive in all things.

Having secured the taxi and handed Patricia
in, he told the man to drive to the Zoo, and sank
back with a sigh of pleasure.

" Now we're going to 'ave a very 'appy after-
noon, me dear," he said. " Don't you worry
about pigs."

Arrived at the Zoo, Mr. Triggs made direct for
the monkey-house. Patricia, a little puzzled at his

150 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
choice, followed obediently. Arrived there he
walked round the cages, looking keenly at the
animals. Finally selecting a little monkey with
a blue face, he pointed it out to Patricia.

" They was just like that little chap/' he said
eagerly. " That one over there, see 'im eating
a nut ? "

" Yes, I see him," said Patricia ; " but who
was just like him ? "

" I'll tell you when we get outside. Now come
along."

Patricia followed Mr. Triggs, puzzled to account
for his strange manner and sudden lack of interest
in the monkey-house. They walked along for
some minutes in silence, then, when they came to
a quiet spot, Mr. Triggs turned to Patricia.

" You see, me dear," he said, " it was there that
I asked her."

" That you asked who what ? " enquired
Patricia, utterly at a loss.

" You see we'd been walking out for nearly a
year ; I was a foreman then. I 'ad tickets given
me for the Zoo one Sunday, so I took 'er. When
we was in the monkey-house there was a couple
of little chaps just like that blue-faced little
beggar we saw just now." There was a note of
affection in Mr. Triggs's voice as he spoke of the
little blue-faced monkey. " And one of 'em 'ad
'is arm round the other and was a-making love to
'er as 'ard as ever 'e could go," continued Mr.
Triggs. " And I says to Emily, just to see 'ow

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS 151
she'd take it, ' That might be you an' me, Emily/
and she blushed and looked down, and then of
course I knew, and I asked 'er to marry me. I
don't think either of us 'ad cause to regret it,"
added the old man huskily. " God knows I
'adn't."

Patricia felt that she wanted both to laugh and
to cry. She could say nothing, words seemed so
hopelessly inadequate.

" You see this is our wedding-day, that's why
I wanted to come," continued Mr. Triggs, blinking
his eyes, in which there was a suspicious moisture.

" Oh ! thank you so much for bringing me," said
Patricia, and she knew as she saw the bright
smile with which Mr. Triggs looked at her thai
she had said the right thing.

"Thirty years and never a cross word," he mur-
mured. " She'd 'ave liked you, me dear," he
added ; " she 'ad wonderful instinct, and every-
body loved her. 'Ere, but look at me," he sud-
denly broke off, " spoilin' your afternoon, and you
lookin' so tired. Come along," and Mr. Triggs
trotted off in the direction of the seals, who were
intimating clearly that they thought that some-
thing must be wrong with the official clock. They
were quite ready for their meal.

For two hours Patricia and Mr. Triggs wandered
about the Zoo, roving from one group of animals
to another, behaving rather like two children who
had at last escaped from the bondage of the school-
room.

152 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

After tea they strolled through Regent's Park,
watching the squirrels and talking about the
thousand and one things that good comrades have
to talk about. Mr. Triggs told something of his
early struggles, how his wife had always believed
in him and been his helpmate and loyal comrade,
how he missed her, and how, when she had died,
she had urged him to marry again.

" Sam," she had said, " you want a woman to
look after you ; you're nothing but a great, big
baby."

" And she was right, me dear," said Mr. Triggs
huskily, " she was right as she always was, only
she didn't know that there couldn't ever be anyone
after 'er."

Slowly and tactfully Patricia guided the old
man's thoughts away from the sad subject of his
wife's death, and soon had him laughing gaily at
some stories she had heard the night previously
from the Bowens. Mr. Triggs was as easily
diverted from sadness to laughter as a child.

It was half-past seven when they left the Park
gates, and Patricia, looking suddenly at her
wristlet watch, cried out, " Oh ! I shall be late
for dinner, I must fly ! "

" You're going to dine with me, me dear,"
announced Mr. Triggs.

" Oh, but I can't," said Patricia ; " I— I "

" Why can't you ? "

" Well, I haven't told Mrs. Craske-Morto»."

" Who's she ? " enquired Mr. Triggs.

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS 153

" Of course it doesn't matter, how stupid of
me," said Patricia ; " I should love to dine with
you, Mr. Triggs, if you will let me."

" That's all right," said Mr. Triggs, heaving a
sigh of relief.

They walked down Portland Place and Regent
Street until they reached the Quadrant.

" We'll 'ave dinner in the Grill-room at the
Quadrant," announced Mr. Triggs, with the air of
a man who knows his way about town.

" Oh, no, not there, please ! " cried Patricia,
in a panic.

" Not there ! " Mr. Triggs looked at her, sur-
prise and disappointment in his voice. ' Why
not ? "

" Oh ! I'd sooner not go there if you don't mind.
Couldn't we go somewhere else ? "

For a moment Mr. Triggs did not reply.
' There's someone there I don't want to meet,"
said Patricia, then a moment afterwards she
realised her mistake. Mr. Triggs looked down at
his clothes.

" I suppose they are a bit out of it for the
evening," he remarked in a hurt voice.

" Oh, Mr. Triggs, how could you ? " said Patricia.
" Now I shall insist on dining in the Quadrant
Grill-room. If you won't come with me I'll go
alone."

" Not if you don't want to go, me dear, it
doesn't matter. Though I do like to 'ear the band.
We can go anywhere."

154 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" No, Quadrant or nothing," said Patricia,
hoping that Bowen would be dining out.

" Are you sure, me dear ? " said Mr. Triggs,
hesitating on the threshold.

" Nothing will change me," announced Patricia,
with decision. " Now you can see about getting
a table while I go and powder my nose."

When Patricia rejoined Mr. Triggs in the vesti-
bule of the Grill-room he was looking very un-
happy and downcast.

" There ain't a table nowhere," he said.

" Oh, what a shame ! " cried Patricia. " What-
ever shall we do ? "

" I don't know," said Mr. Triggs helplessly.

" Are you sure ? " persisted Patricia.

" That red-'eaded fellow over there said there
wasn't nothing to be 'ad."

" I am sorry," said Patricia, seeing Triggs's
disappointment. " I suppose we shall have to go
somewhere else after all."

" Won't you and your friend share my table.
Patricia ? "

Patricia turned round as if someone had hit her,
her face naming. " Oh ! " she cried. " You ? "

" I have a table booked, and if you will dine
with me you will be conferring a real favour upon
a lonely fellow-creature."

Bowen smiled from Patricia to Mr. Triggs, who
was looking at him in surprise.

" Oh ! where are my manners ? " cried
Patricia as she introduced the two men.

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS 155

Mr. Triggs's eyes bulged at the mention of
Bowen's title.

" Now, Mr. Triggs," said Bowen, " won't you
add the weight of your persuasion to mine, and
persuade Miss Brent that the only thing to do is
for you both to dine with me and save me from
boredom ? "

" Well, it was to 'ave been my treat," said Mr.
Triggs, not quite sure of his ground.

" But you can afford to be generous. Can't
you share her with me, just for this evening ? "

Mr. Triggs beamed and turned questioningly
to Patricia, who, seeing that if she declined it
would be a real disappointment to him, said :

" Well, I suppose we must under the circum-
stances."

' You're not very gracious, Patricia, are you ? "
said Bowen comically.

Patricia laughed. " Well, come along, I'm
starving," she said.

Many heads were turned to look at the curious
trio, headed by the obsequious maitre d'hotel, as
they made their way towards Bowen's table.

" I wonder what 'Ettie would say," whispered
Mr. Triggs to Patricia, " me dining with a lord,
and 'im being a pal of yours, too."

Patricia smiled. She was wondering what trick
Fate would play her next.

The meal was a gay one. Bowen and Mr. Triggs
immediately became friends and pledged each
other in champagne.

156 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

Mr. Triggs told of their visit to the Zoo and oi
the anniversary it celebrated.

" Then you are a believer in marriage, Mr.
Triggs," said Bowen.

" A believer in it ! I should just think I am/'
said Mr. Triggs. " I wish she'd get married," he
added, nodding his head in the direction of
Patricia.

" She's going to," said Bowen quietly.

Mr. Triggs sat up as if someone had hit him in
the small of the back.

" Going to," he cried. " Who's the man ? "

" You have just pledged him in Moet and
Chandon," replied Bowen quietly.

* You going to marry 'er ? " Unconsciously
Mr. Triggs raised his voice in his surprise, and
several people at adjacent tables turned and
looked at the trio.

" Hush ! Mr. Triggs," said Patricia, feeling her
cheeks burn. Bowen merely smiled.

" Well I am glad," said Mr. Triggs heartily, and
seizing Bowen's hand he shook it cordially.
" God bless my soul ! " he added, " and you never
told me." He turned reproachful eyes upon
Patricia.

" It— it " she began.

" You see, it's only just been arranged," said
Bowen.

Patricia flashed him a grateful look, he seemed
always to be coming to her rescue.

" God bless my soul ! " repeated Mr. Triggs.

THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS 157
" But you'll be 'appy, both of you, I'll answer for
that."

' Then I may take it that you're on my side,
Mr. Triggs," said Bowen.

" On your side ? " queried Mr. Triggs, not
understanding.

' Yes," said Bowen, " you see Patricia believes
In long engagements, whereas I believe in short
ones. I want her to marry me at once ; but she
will not. She wants to wait until we are both
too old to enjoy each other's society, and she is
too deaf to hear me say how charming she is."

" If you love each other you'll never be too
old to enjoy each other's company," said Mr.
Triggs seriously. " Still, I'm with you," he added,
" and I'll do all I can to persuade 'er to hurry on
the day."

" Oh, Mr. Triggs ! " cried Patricia reproach-
fully, " you have gone over to the enemy."

" I think he has merely placed himself on the
side of the angels," said Bowen.

" And now," said Mr. Triggs, " you must both
of you dine with me one night to celebrate the
event. Oh Lor' ! " he exclaimed. " What will
'Ettie say ? " Then turning to Bowen he added
oy way of explanation, " 'Ettie's my daughter,
rather stiff, she is. She looks down on Miss Brent
because she's only A. B.'s secretary. 'Ettie's got
to learn a lot about the world," he added oracu-
larly. " My, this'il be a shock to 'er."

" I'm afraid I can't " began Patricia.

158 PATRICIA BRENT,

" You're not going to say you can't both dine
with me ? " said Mr. Triggs, blankly disappointed.

" I think Patricia will reconsider her decision,"
said Bowen quietly. " She wouldn't be so selfish
as to deny two men an evening's happiness."

" She's one of the oest," said Mr. Triggc, with
decision.

" Mr. Triggs, I think you and I have at least
one thing in common," said Bowen.

CHAPTER XII

A BOMBSHELL

OOD morning, Miss Brent."

Patricia was surprised at the gracious-
ness of Mrs. Bonsor's salutation, par-
ticularly after the episode of the Zoo on the
previous afternoon.

" Good morning," she responded, and made
to go upstairs to take off her hat and coat.

" I congratulate you," proceeded Mrs. Bonsor
in honeyed tones ; " but I'm just a little hurt that
you did not confide in me." Mrs. Bonsor's tone was
that of a trusted friend of many years' standing.

Confide ! " repeated Patricia in a matter-of-
fact tone. " Confide what, Mrs. Bonsor ? "

1 Your engagement to Lord Peter Bowen. Such
a surprise. You're a very lucky girl. I hope
you'll bring Lord Peter to call."

Patricia listened mechanically to Mrs. Bonsor's
inanities. Suddenly she realised their import.
What had happened ? How did she know ? Had
Mr. Triggs told her ?

" How did you know ? " Patricia enquired.
" Haven't you seen The Morning Post ? " en-
quired Mrs. Bonsor.

159

i6o PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" The Morning Post ! " repeated Patricia, in
consternation ; " but — but I don't understand."

" Then isn't it true ? " enquired Mrs. Bonsor,
scenting a mystery.

" I — I " began Patricia, then with inspira-
tion added, " I must be getting on, I've got a lot
to do to make up for yesterday."

" But isn't it true, Miss Brent ? " persisted Mrs.
Bonsor.

Then from half-way up the stairs Patricia
turned and, in a spurt of mischief, cried, " If you
see it in The Morning Post it is so, Mrs. Bonsor."

When Patricia entered the library Mr. Bonsor
was fussing about with letters and papers, a habit
he had when nervous.

" I'm so sorry about yesterday afternoon, Mr.
Bonsor," said Patricia ; " but Mrs. Bonsor seemed
to wish me to "

" Not at all, not at all, Miss Brent," said Mr.
Bonsor nervously. " I — I " then he paused.

" I know what you're going to say, Mr. Bonsor,
but please don't say it."

Mr. Bonsor looked at her in surprise. " Not
say it ? " he said.

" Oh ! everybody's congratulating me, and I'm
tired. Shall we get on with the letters ? "

Mr. Bonsor was disappointed. He had pre-
pared a dainty little speech of congratulation,
which he had intended to deliver as Patricia
entered the room. Mr. Bonsor was always pre-
paring speeches which he never delivered. There

A BOMBSHELL 161

was not an important matter that had been before
the House since he had represented Little Dolling-
ton upon which he had not prepared a speech. He
had criticised every member of the Government
and Opposition He had prepared party speeches
and anti-party speeches, patriotic speeches and
speeches of protest. He had called upon the House
of Commons to save the country, and upon the
country to save the House of Commons. He had
woven speeches of splendid optimism and speeches
of gloomy foreboding. He had attacked ministers
and defended ministers, seen himself attacked and
had routed his enemies. He had prepared speeches
to be delivered to his servants for domestic mis-
demeanour, speeches for Mr. Triggs, even for
Mrs. Bonsor.

He had conceived speeches on pigs, speeches on
potatoes, speeches on oil-cake, and speeches on
officers' wives ; in short, there was nothing in the
world of his thoughts about which he had not
prepared a speech. The one thing he did not do
was to deliver these speeches. They were wonder-
ful things of his imagination, which seemed to
defy crystallization into words. So it was with
the speech of congratulation that he had pre-
pared for Patricia.

That morning Patricia was distraite. Her
thoughts continued to wander to The Morning
Post announcement, and she was anxious to get
out to lunch in order to purchase a copy and see
what was actually said. Then her thoughts ran

162 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
on to who was responsible for such an outrage ;
for Patricia regarded it as an outrage. It was ob-
viously Bowen who had done it in order to make
her position still more ridiculous. It was mean,
she was not sure that it was not contemptible.

Patricia was in the act of transcribing some
particulars about infant mortality in England
and Wales compared with that of Scotland, when
the parlourmaid entered with a note. Mr. Bonsor
stretched out his hand for it.

" It is for Miss Brent, sir," said the maid.

Patricia looked up in surprise. It was unusual
for her to receive a note at the Bonsors'. She
opened the envelope mechanically and read : —

" DEAREST,

" I have just seen The Morning Post. It is
sweet of you to relent. You have made me
very happy. Will you dine with me to-night
and when may I take you to Grosvenor Square ?
My mother will want to see her new daughter-in-
law.

" I so enjoyed last night. Surely the gods are
on my side.

"PETER."

Patricia read and re-read the note. For a
moment she felt ridiculously happy, then, with a
swift change of mood she saw the humiliation of
her situation. Bowen thought it was she who
had inserted the notice of the engagement. What
must he think of her ? It looked as if she had

A BOMBSHELL 103

done it to burn his boats behind him. Then
suddenly she seized a pen and wrote : —

" DEAR LORD PETER,

" I know nothing whatever about the an-
nouncement in The Morning Post, and I only
heard of it when I arrived here. I cannot dine
with you to-night, and I am very angry and
upset that anyone should have had the impertin-
ence to interfere in my affairs. I shall take up
the matter with The Morning Post people and
insist on a contradiction immediately.
" Yours sincerely,

"PATRICIA BRENT."

With quick, decisive movements Patricia folded
the note, addressed the envelope and handed it to
the maid, then she turned to Mr. Bonsor.

" I am sorry to interrupt work, Mr. Bonsor ;
but that was rather an important note that I had
to answer."

Mr. Bonsor smiled sympathetically.

At lunch -time Patricia purchased a copy of
The Morning Post, and there saw in all its un-
blushing mendacity the announcement.

" A marriage has been arranged and will
shortly take place between Lord Peter Bowen,
D.S.O., M.C., attached to the General Staff, son
of the yth Marquess of Meyfield, and Patricia
Brent, daughter of the late John Brent, of
Little Milstead "

164 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

' Why on earth must the ridiculous people put
it at the top of the column? " she muttered aloud.
A man occupying an adjoining table at the place
where she was lunching turned and looked at
her.

" And now I must go back to potatoes, pigs,
and babies," said Patricia to herself as she paid
her bill and rose. " Ugh ! "

She had scarcely settled down to her after-
noon's work when the maid entered and an-
nounced, " Lord Peter Bowen to see you, miss."

"Oh bother!" exclaimed Patricia. "Tell him
I'm busy, will you please?"

The maid's jaw dropped; she was excellently
trained, but no maid-servant could be expected
to rise superior to such an extraordinary attitude
on the part of a newly-engaged girl. Nothing
short of a butler who had lived in the best families
could have risen to such an occasion.

" But, Miss Brent " uegan Mr. Bonsor.

Patricia turned and froze him with a look.
"Will you give him my message, please, Fellers ? "
she said, and Fellers walked out a disillusioned
young woman.

Two minutes later Mrs. Bonsor entered the
room, flushed and excited.

" Oh, Miss Brent, that silly girl has muddled
up things somehow ! Lord Peter Bowen is waiting
for you in the morning-room. I have just been
talking to him and saying that I hope you will
both dine with us one day next week."

A BOMBSHELL 165

' The message was quite correct, Mrs. Bonsor. I
am very busy with pigs, and babies, and potatoes.
I really cannot add Lord Peter to my responsi-
bilities at the moment." •

Mrs. Bonsor looked at Patricia as if she had
suddenly gone mad.

" But Miss Brent " began Mrs. Bonsor,

scandalised.

" I suppose I shall have to see him," said
Patricia, rising with the air of one who has to
perform an unpleasant task. " I wish he'd stay
at the War Office and leave me to do my work.
I suppose I shall have to write to Lord Derby
about it."

Mrs. Bonsor glanced at Mr. Bonsor, who, how-
ever, was busily engaged in preparing an appro-
priate speech upon War Office methods, suggested
by Patricia's remark about Lord Derby.

As Patricia entered the morning-room, Bowen
came forward.

" Oh, Patricia ! why will you persist in being
a cold douche ? Why this morning I absolutely
scandalised Peel by singing at the top of my
voice whilst in my bath, and now. Look at me
now ! "

Patricia looked at him, then she was forced to
laugh. He presented such a woebegone appear-
ance.

" But what on earth have I to do with your
singing in your bath ? " she enquired.

" It was The Morning Post paragraph. I

166 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
thought everything was going to be all right after
last night, and now I'm a door-mat again."

" Who inserted that paragraph ? " enquired
Patricia.

" I rang up The Morning Post office and they
told me that it was handed in by Miss Brent, who
is staying at the Mayfair Hotel."

" Aunt Adelaide ! " There was a depth of
meaning in Patricia's tone as she uttered the
two words, then turning to Bo wen she enquired,
" Did you tell them to contradict it ? "

" They asked me whether it were correct," he
said, refusing to meet Patricia's eyes.

" What did you say ? "

" I said it was." He looked at her quizzically,
like a boy who is expecting a severe scolding.
Patricia had to bite her lips to prevent herself
from laughing.

" You told The Morning Post people that it
was correct when you knew that it was wrong ? "

Bowen hung his head. " But it isn't wrong,"
he muttered.

' You know very well that it is wrong and that
I am not engaged to you, and that no marriage
has been arranged or ever will be arranged. Now
I shall have to write to the editor and insist upon
the statement being contradicted."

" Good Lord ! Don't do that, Patricia," broke
in Bowen. ' They'll think we've all gone mad."

" And for once a newspaper editor will be
right," was Patricia's comment.

A BOMBSHELL 167

" And will you dine t>night, Pat ? "

Patricia looked up. This was the first time
Bowen had used the diminutive of her name.
Somehow it sounded very intimate.

" I am afraid I have an — an "

The hesitation was her undoing.

" No ; don't tell me fibs, please. You will dine
with me and then, afterwards, we will go on and
see the mater. She is dying to know you."

How boyish and lover-like Bowen was in spite
of his twenty-eight years, and — and — how dif-
ferent everything might have been if Patricia

was awakened from her thoughts by hearing
Bowen say :

" Shall I pick you up here in the car ? "

" No, I — I've just told you I am engaged,"
she said.

"And I've just told you that I won't allow you
to be engaged to anyone but me," was Bowen's
answer. " If you won't come and dine with me
I'll come and play my hooter outside Galvin
House until they send you out to get rid of me.
You know, Patricia, I'm an awful fellow when I've
set my mind on anything, and I'm simply deter-
mined to marry you whether you like it or not."

" Very well, I will dine with you to-night at
half-past seven."

" I'll pick you up at Galvin House at a quarter-
past seven with the car."

" Very well," said Patricia wearily. It seemed
ridiculous to try and fight against her fate, and

168 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

at the back of her mind she had a plan of action,

which she meant to put into operation.

" Now I must get back to my work. Good-bye."

Bowen opened the door of the morning-room.
Mrs. Bonsor was in the hall. Patricia walked over
to the library, leaving Bowen in Mrs. Bonsor's
clutches.

" Oh, Lord Peter ! " Mrs. Bonsor gushed. " I
hope you and Miss Brent will dine with us "

Patricia shut the library door without waiting
to hear Bowen's reply.

At five o'clock she gave up the unequal struggle
with infant mortality statistics and walked list-
lessly across the Park to Galvin House. She was
tired and dispirited. It was the weather, she
told herself, London in June could be very trying,
then there had been all that fuss over The Morning
Post announcement. At Galvin House she knew
the same ordeal was awaiting her that she had
passed through at Eaton Square. Mrs. Craske-
Morton would be effusive, Miss Wangle would
unbend, Miss Sikkum would simper, Mr. Bolton
would be facetious, and all the others would be
exactly what they had been all their lives, only
a little more so as a result of The Morning Post
paragraph.

Only the fact of Miss Wangle taking breakfast
in bed had saved Patricia from the ordeal at
breakfast. Miss Wangle was the only resident at
Galvin House who regularly took The Morning
Post, it being "the dear bishop's favourite paper."

A BOMBSHELL 109

Arrived at Galvin House Patricia went straight
to her room. Dashing past Gustave, who greeted
her with " Oh, mees ! " struggling at the same
time to extract from his pocket a newspaper
Patricia felt that she should scream Had every-
one in Galvin House bought a copy of that day's
Morning Post, and would they all bring it out of
their pockets and point out the passage to her ?
She sighed wearily.

Suddenly she jumped up from the bed where she
had thrown herself, seized her writing-case and
proceeded to write feverishly. At the end of
half an hour she read and addressed three letters,
stamping two of them. The first was to the editor
of The Morning Post, and ran : —

" DEAR SIR,

" In your issue of to-day's date you make an
announcement regarding a marriage having been
arranged between Lord Peter Bowen and myself,
which is entirely inaccurate.

" I am given to understand that this announce-
ment was inserted on the authority of my aunt,
Miss Adelaide Brent, and I must leave you to
take what action you choose in relation to her.
As for myself, I will ask you to be so kind as to
insert a contradiction of the statement in your
next issue.

" I am,

" Yours faithfully,

"PATRICIA BRENT."

170 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

Patricia always prided herself on the business-
like quality of her letters.
The second letter was to Miss Brent. It ran : —

" DEAR AUNT ADELAIDE,

"I have written to the editor of The Morning
Post informing him that he must take such
action as he sees fit against you for inserting
your unauthorised statement that a marriage
has been arranged between Lord Peter Bowen
and me. It may interest you to know that the
engagement has been broken off as a result of
your impulsive and ill-advised action. Per-
sonally I think you have rather presumed on
being my ' sole surviving relative.'
"Your affectionate niece,

" PATRICIA."

The third letter was to Bowen.

" DEAR LORD PETER,

" I have written to the editor of The Morning
Post, asking him to contradict the inaccurate
statement published in to-day's issue. I am
consumed with humiliation that such a thing
should have been sent to him by a relative of
mine, more particularly by a ' sole surviving
relative.' My aunt unfortunately epitomises
in her personality all the least desirable charac-
teristics to be found in relatives.

" I cannot tell you how sorry I am about — oh,
everything ! If you really want to save me

A BOMBSHELL 171

from feeling thoroughly ashamed of myself you
will not only forget me, but also a certain
incident.

" You have done me a great honour, I know,
and you will add to it a great service if you
will do as I ask and forget all about a folly that
I have had cause bitterly to regret.

" Please forgive me for not dining with you
to-night and for breaking my word ; but I arn
feeling very unwell and tired and I have gone

to bed.

" Yours sincerely,

"PATRICIA BRENT."

Patricia's plan was to post the letters to Aunt
Adelaide and The Morning Post, and leave the
other with Gustave to be given to Bowen when
he called, she would then shut herself in her room
and plead a headache as an excuse for not being
disturbed. Thus she would escape Miss Wangle
and her waves of interrogation.

As Patricia descended the stairs, Gustave was
in the act of throwing open the door to Lady
Tanagra. It was too late to retreat.

" Ah ! there you are," exclaimed Lady Tanagra
as she passed the respectful Gustave in the hall.

Patricia descended the remaining stairs slowly
and with dragging steps. Lady Tanagra looked
at her sharply.

" Aren't we a nuisance ? " cried she. " There's
nothing more persistent in nature than a Bowen.

172 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Bruce's spider is quite a parochial affair in com
parison," and she laughed lightly.

Patricia smiled as she welcomed Lady Tanagra.
For a moment she hesitated at the door of the
lounge, then with a sudden movement she turned
towards the stairs.

" Come up to my room," she said, " we can talk
there."

There was no cordiality in her voice. Lady
Tanagra noticed that she looked worn-out and
til. Once the bedroom door was closed she turned
to Patricia.

" My poor Patricia ! whatever is the matter ?
You look thoroughly done up. Now lie down on
the bed like a good girl, and I will assume my best
bedside manner."

Patricia shook her head wearily, and indicating
a chair by the window, seated herself upon the
bed.

" I'm afraid I am rather tired," she said. " II
was just going to lock myself up for the night."

" Now I'm going to cheer you up," cried Lady
Tanagra. ' Was there ever a more tactless way
of beginning, but I've got something to tell you
that is so exquisitely funny that it would cheer
up an oyster, or even a radical."

" First," said Patricia, " I think I should like
you to read these letters." Slowly and wearily she
ripped open the three letters and handed them to
Lady Tanagra, who read them through slowly
and deliberately. This done, she folded each care-

A BOMBSHELL 173

fully, returned it to its envelope and handed them
to Patricia.

" Well ! " said Patricia.

Lady Tanagra smiled. Reaching across to the
dressing-table she took a cigarette from Patricia's
box and proceeded to light it. Patricia watched
her curiously.

" I think you must have been meant for a man,
Tanagra," she said after a pause. " You have the
gift of silence, and nothing is more provoking to
a woman."

' What do you want me to say ? " enquired
Lady Tanagra. ."I like these cigarettes," she
added.

" If you are not careful, you'll make me scream
in a minute," said Patricia, with a smile. " I
showed you those letters and now you don't even
so much as say ' thank you.' '

' Thank you very much indeed, Patricia," said
Lady Tanagra meekly.

' You don't approve of them ? " There was
undisguised challenge in Patricia's voice.

" I think the one to Miss Brent is admirable,
specially if you will add a postscript after what I
tell you."

" But the other two," persisted Patricia.

" I do not think I am qualified to express an
opinion, am I ? " said Lady Tanagra calmly.

:< Why not ? "

' Well, you see, I am an interested party."

" You ! " cried Patricia, then with a sudden

174 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
change, " Oh, if you are not careful I shall come
over and shake you ! "

" I think that would be very good for both of
us," was Lady Tanagra's reply.

" Tell me what you mean," persisted Patricia.

" Well, in the first place, the one to the editor
of The Morning Post will make poor Peter ridicu-
lous, and the other will hurt his feelings, and as I
am very fond of Peter you cannot expect me to
be enthusiastic with either of them, can you ? "

Lady Tanagra rose and going over to Patricia
put her arm round her and kissed her on the
cheek, then Patricia did a very foolish thing.
Without a word of warning she threw her arms
around Lady Tanagra's neck and burst into tears.

" Oh, I'm so wretched, Tanagra ! I know I'm
a beast and I want to hurt everybody and every
thing. I think I should like to hurt you even,'
she cried, her mood of crying passing as quickly
as it had come.

" Don't you think we had better just talk the
thing out ? Now since you have asked my
view," continued Lady Tanagra, " I will give it.
Your letter to The Morning Post people will make
poor Peter the laughing-stock of London. He
has many enemies among ambitious mamas.
Never have I known him to be attracted towards
a girl until you came along. He's really paying you
a. very great compliment."

Patricia sniffed ominously.

"Then the letter to Peter would hurt hiiri

A BOMBSHELL 175

because — you must forgive me — it is rather brutal,
isn't it ? "

Patricia nodded her head vigorously.

" Well," continued Lady Tanagra, " what do
you say if we destroy them both ? "

" But — but — that would leave The Morning
Post announcement and P-Peter "

" Don't you think they might both be left, just
for the moment ? Later you can wipe the floor
with them."

' But — but — you don't understand, Tanagra/'
i began Patricia.

" Don't you think that half the troubles of the
world are due to people wanting to understand ? "
said Lady Tanagra calmly. " I never want to
understand* There are certain things I know and
• these are sufficient for me. In this case I know
that I have a very good brother and he wants to
marry a very good girl ; but for some reason she
won't have anything to do either with him or
with me." She looked up into Patricia's face with
a smile so wholly disarming that Patricia was
forced to laugh.

" If you knew Patricia's opinion of herself," she
said to Lady Tanagra, " you would be almost
shocked."

' Well, now, will you do something just to
please me ? " insinuated Lady Tanagra. ' You see
this big brother of mine has always been more or
less my adopted child, and you have it hi your
power to hurt him more than I want to see him

176 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
hurt/* There was an unusually serious note in
Lady Tanagra's voice. " Why not let things go
on as they are for the present, then later the
engagement can be broken off if you wish it. I'll
speak to Peter and see that he is not tiresome."

" Oh, but he's never been that ! " protested
Patricia, then she stopped suddenly in confusion.

Lady Tanagra smiled to herself.

" Well, if he's never been tiresome I'm sure you
wouldn't like to hurt him, would you ? " She
was speaking as if to a child.

" The only person I want to hurt is Aunt
Adelaide," said Patricia with a laugh.

Lady Tanagra noticed with pleasure that the
mood seemed to be dropping from her.

" Well, may I be the physician for to-day ?
continued Lady Tanagra.

Patricia nodded her head.

" Very well, then, I prescribe a dinner this
evening with one Tanagra Bowen, Peter Bowen
and Godfrey Elton, on the principle of ' Eat thou
and drink, to-morrow thou shalt die.' "

" Who is Godfrey Elton ? " asked Patricia with
interest.

" My dear Patricia, if I were to start endeavour-
ing to describe Godfrey we should be at it for
hours. You can't describe Godfrey, you can only
absorb him. He is a sort of wise youth rapidly
approaching childhood."

' What on earth do you mean ? " cried
Patricia, laughing.

A BOMBSHELL 177

1 You will discover for yourself later. We
are all dining at the Quadrant to-night at eight."

" Dining at the Quadrant ? " repeated Patricia
in amazement.

" Yes, and I have to get home to dress and you
have to dress and I will pick you up in a taxi at
a quarter to eight."

" But — but — Peter — your brother said that he
was coming "

" Peter has greater faith in his sister than in
himself, he therefore took me into his confidence
and I am his emissary."

" Oh, you Bowens, you Bowens ! " moaned
Patricia in mock despair.

' There is no avoiding us, I confess," said
Lady Tanagra gaily. " Now I must tell you about
your charming aunt. She called upon mother
yesterday."

" What ! " gasped Patricia.

" She called at Grosvenor Square and an-
nounced to poor, un-understanding mother that
she thought the families ought to know one
another. But she got rather badly shocked by
Godfrey and one of the soldier boys, whom we call
' Uncle/ and left with the firm conviction that
our circle is a pernicious one."

" It's — it's — perfectly scandalous ! " cried
Patricia.

" No, it's not as bad as that," said Lady
Tanagra calmly

"What?" began Patricia. "Oh! I mean

178 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

Aunt Adelaide's conduct, it's humiliating,

it's "

" Wait until you hear," said Lady Tanagra with
a smile. " When Peter ran in to see mother, she
said that she had had a call from a Miss Brent
and could he place her. So poor old Peter blurts
out that he's going to marry Miss Brent. Poor
mother nearly had a fit on the spot. She was
too tactful to express her disapproval ; but she
showed it in her amazement. The result was that
Peter was deeply hurt and left the room and the
house. I am the only one who saw the exquisite
humour of the joke. My poor darling mother had;
the impression that Peter has gone clean off his>
head and wanted to marry your most excellent
Aunt Adelaide," and Lady Tanagra laughed I

gaily.

For a moment Patricia gazed at her blankly,
then as she visualised Aunt Adelaide and Bowen
side by side at the altar she laughed hysterically.

" I kept mother in suspense for quite a long time.
Then I told her, and I also rang up Peter and
told him. And now I must fly," cried Lady
Tanagra " I will be here at a quarter to eight,
and if you are not ready I shall be angry ; but'
if you have locked yourself in your room I shall
batter down the door. We are going to have a
very happy evening and you will enjoy yourselJ
immensely. I think it quite likely that Godfre},
will fall in love with you as well as Peter, whicl
will still further increase your embarrassments/

A BOMBSHELL 179

Then with a sudden change of mood she said,

Please cheer up, Patricia, happiness is not a
thing to be taken lightly. You have been a little
overwrought of late, and now, good-bye."

" One moment, please/' said Patricia. " Don't
you understand that nothing can possibly be built
up on such a foundation as — as ? "

" Your picking up Peter in the Grill-room of
the Quadrant," said Lady Tanagra calmly.

Patricia gasped. " Oh ! " she cried.

" Let's call things by their right names," said
Lady Tanagra. " At the present moment you're
putting up rather a big fight against your own
inclination, and you are causing yourself a lot
of unnecessary unhappiness. Is it worth it ? "
she asked.

" One's self-respect is always worth any sacri-
fice," said Patricia.

"Except when you are in love, and then you
take pride in trampling it under foot."

With this oracular utterance I^ady Tanagra
departed with a bright nod, a smile and an
insistence that Patricia should not come down-
stairs.

CHAPTER XIII

A TACTICAL BLUNDER

"TT OFTEN think/' remarked Lady Tanagra
as she helped herself a second time to

-*" hors dfceuvres, " that if Godfrey could
wily be condensed or desiccated he would save
the world from ennui/'

Elton looked up from a sardine he was filleting
with great interest and care ; concentration was
the foundation of Godfrey Elton's character.

" Does that mean that he is a food or a stimu-
lant ? " enquired Patricia, Elton having returned
to his sardine.

Lady Tanagra regarded Elton with thoughtful
brow.

" I think," she said deliberately, " I should call
him a habit."

" Does that imply that he is a drug upon the
market ? " retorted Patricia.

Bowen laughed. Elton continued to fillet his
sardine.

" You see," continued Lady Tanagra, " Godfrey
has two qualities that to a woman are maddening.
The first is the gift of silence, and the second is a
perfect genius for making everyone else feel that

1 80

A TACTICAL BLUNDER 181

they are in the wrong. Some day he'll fall in love,
and then something will snap and — well, he will
give up dissecting sardines as if they were the one
thing in life worthy of a man's attention."

Elton looked up again straight into Lady
Tanagra's eyes and smiled.

" Look at him now ! " continued Lady Tanagra,
" that very smile makes me feel like a naughty
child."

The four were dining in Bowen's sitting-room
at the Quadrant, Lady Tanagra having decided
that this would be more pleasant than in the public
dining-room.

Can you/' continued Lady Tanagra, who was
in a wilful mood, " can you imagine Godfrey in
love ? I don't think any man ought to be allowed
to fall in love until he has undergone an examina-
tion as to whether or no he can say the right thing
the right way. No, it takes an Irishman to make
.ove."

But an Irishman says what he cannot possibly
can," said Patricia, with the air of one of vast
perience in such matters.
And many Englishmen mean what they cannot
ibly say," said Elton, looking at Lady Tanagra.
Oh," cried Lady Tanagra, clapping her hands.
" You have drawn him, Patricia. Now he will
k to us instead of concentrating himself upon
food. Ah ! " she exclaimed suddenly, turning
o Elton. " I promised that you should fall in
ve with Patricia, Godfrey."

i82 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Now that Tanagra has come down to proba-
bilities the atmosphere should lighten/' Elton
remarked.

" Isn't that Godfrey all over ? " demanded
Lady Tanagra of Bowen. "He will snub one1
woman and compliment another in a breath.
Patricia/' she continued, " I warn you against i
Godfrey. He is highly dangerous. He should
always be preceded by a man with a red flag."

" But why ? " asked Bowen.

" Because of his reticence. A man has no right I
to be reticent; it piques a woman's curiosity, andi
with us curiosity is the first step to surrender."

" Why hesitate at the first step ? " asked Elton.

"Think of it, Patricia," continued Lady
Tanagra, ignoring Elton's remark. " Although
Godfrey has seen The Morning Post he has not
yet congratulated Peter."

" I did not know then that I had cause to con-
gratulate him," said Elton quietly.

" What mental balance ! " cried Lady Tanagra.
" I'm sure he reads the deaths immediately after
the births, and the divorces just after the marriages
so as to preserve his sense of proportion."

Elton looked first at Lady Tanagra and then
on to Patricia, and smiled.

" Can you not see Godfrey choosing a wife ?
demanded Lady Tanagra, laughing. ' Weighing
the shape of her head with the size of her ankles,
he's very fussy about ankles. He would dissect
her as he would a sardine, demanding perfection,

A TACTICAL BLUNDER 183

icntal, moral, and physical, and in return he
fould give himself." Lady Tanagra emphasized
ic last word.

" Most men take less time to choose a wife
lan they would a trousering," said Elton quietly.

" I think Mr. Elton is right," said Patricia.

Then you don't believe in love at first sight/'
ud Bowen to Patricia.

Miss Brent did not say that/' interposed
Iton. " She merely implied that a man who falls
i love at first sight should choose trouserings at
rst sight. Is that not so ? " He looked across at
atricia.

Patricia nodded.

" An impetuous man will be impetuous in all
lings," said Bowen.

He who hesitates may lose a wife," said
ady Tanagra, " and "

" And by analogy, go without trousers," said
Iton quietly.

' That might explain a Greek ; but scarcely a

otsman," said Patricia.

"No one has ever been able to explain a Scots-
lan," said Elton. " We content ourselves with
lisunderstanding him."

We were talking about love," broke in Lady
anagra, " and I will not have the conversation
i verted." Turning to Patricia she demanded,
Can you imagine Godfrey in love ? "

' I think so," said Patricia quietly, looking
:ross at Elton. " Only "

184 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

"Only what?" cried Lady Tanagra
excited interest. " Oh, please, Patricia, e
Godfrey to me ! No one has ever done so."

" Don't yon think he is a little tike the Scot
man we were talking about just now?" sa
Patricia. " Difficult to explain ; but easy
misunderstand."

"Oh, Peter, Peter!" wailed Lady Tanagi
looking across at Bowen- " She's caught it."

" Caught what ? '" asked Bowen in surprise.

* The vagueness of generalities that is Go
frey," replied Lady Tanagra, "Now, Patria
you must explain that ' only ' at which you bro
off. You say you can imagine Godfrey in loffl
only-

" I think he would place it on the same plane
honour and sportsmanship, probably a tittle aba
both."

Elton looked up from the bread he was cram
ting, and gave Patricia a quick penetrating giant
beneath which her eyes fell.

Lady Tanagra looked at Patricia in surpri
but said nothing.

"Can you imagine Tan in love, Patricia i
enquired Bowen. " We Bowens are notorious
backward in matters of the heart," he added.

" I shall fall in love when the man comes ale
Lady Tanagra paused.

'Will compel you/' said Patricia, concradi

sentence.
Again Elton looked quickly across at her.

M

«

A TACTICAL BLUNDER 185

What do you mean ? " demanded Ladv
i Tanagra.

I think," said Patricia deliberately, " that
are too primitive to fall in love. You would
to be stormed, carried away by force, and
wooed afterwards."

" It doesn't sound very respectable, does
? " said Lady Tanagra thoughtfully, then
turning to Bowen she demanded, " Peter, would
ou allow me to be carried away by force, stormed,
-;;ind wooed afterwards ? "

I think, Tanagra, you sometimes forget that
•our atmosphere is too exotic for most men," said
hJElton.

Godfrey," said Lady Tanagra reproachfully,
1 1 have had quite a lot of proposals, and I won't
denied my successes."

14 We were talking about love, not offers of
-jrjnarriage," said Elton with a smile.

Cynic," cried Lady Tanagra. "You imply
:hat the men who have proposed to me wanted
.pjj ny money and not myself."

" Suppose, Tanagra, there were a right man,"
>aid Patricia, " and he was poor and honourable,
tfhat then ? "

" I suppose I should have to ask him to marry
ne," said Lady Tanagra dubiously.

" But, Tan, we've just decided," said Bowen,
' that you have to be carried away by force, and
:annot love until force has been applied."

" I think I've had enough of this conversa-

PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
tion," said Lady Tanagra. " You're trying to
prove that I'm either going to lose my reputation,
or die an old maid, and I'm not so sure that you're
wrong, about the old maid, I mean," she added, j
" I shall depend upon you, Godfrey, then," she
said, turning to Elton, " and we will hobble
about the Park together on Sunday mornings, \
comparing notes upon rheumatism and gout,
Ugh ! " She looked deliberately round the table,
from one to the other. " Has it ever struck y
what we shall look like when we grow very old
she asked.

"No one need ever grow old," said Patricia.

" How can you prevent it ? " asked Bowen.

" There is morphia and the fountain of eternal
youth," suggested Elton.

" Please don't let's be clever any more," saic
Lady Tanagra. " It's affecting my brain. Nov
we will play bridge for a little while and then al
go home and get to bed early."

In spite of her protests Bowen insisted on seeing
Patricia to Galvin House. For some time th
did not speak. As the taxi turned into Oxfon
Street Bowen broke the silence.

" Patricia, my mother wants to know you " h
said simply.

Patricia shivered. The words came as a shoe!
They recalled the incident of her meeting wit
Bowen. She seemed to see a grey-haired lad
with Bowen's eyes and quiet manner, too wel
bred to show th° disapproval she felt on hearin

A TACTICAL BLUNDER 187

the story of her son's first meeting with his fiance".
She shuddered again.

" Are you cold ? " Bo wen enquired solicitously,
leaning forward to close the window nearest to
him.

" No, I was thinking what Lady Mey field will
think when she hears how you made the acquaint-
ance of — of — me," she finished lamely.

" There is no reason why she should know,"
said Bowen.

"Do you think I would marry ?" Patricia

broke off suddenly in confusion.

" But why ? " began Bowen.

" If ever I meet Lady Meyfield I shall tell her
exactly how I — I — met you," said Patricia with
decision.

" Well, tell her then," said Bowen good-
humouredly. " She has a real sense of humour."

The moment Bowen had uttered the words he
saw his mistake. Patricia drew herself up coldly.

" It was rather funny, wasn't it ? " she said
evenly ; " but mothers do not encourage their
sons to develop such acquaintances. Now shall
we talk about something else ? "

" But my mother wants to meet you," pro-
tested Bowen. " She "

" Tell her the story of our acquaintance,"
replied Patricia coldly " I think that will effec-
tually overcome her wish to know me. Ah ! here
we are," she concluded as the taxi drew up at
Galvin House. With a short " good night J "

i88 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Patricia walked up the steps, leaving Bowen
conscious that he had once more said the wrong
thing.

That night, as Patricia prepared for bed, she
mentally contrasted the Bowens' social sphere
with that of Galvin House and she shuddered for
the third time that evening.

" Patricia Brent," she apostrophised her reflec-
tion in the mirror. " You're a fool ! and you have
not even the saving grace of being an old fool.
High Society has turned your giddy young head,"
and with a laugh that sounded hard even to her
own ears, she got into bed and switched off the
light.

CHAPTER XIV

GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORb

THE effect of The Morning Post announce-
ment upon Galvin House had been little
short of sensational. Although all were
I aware of the engagement, to see the announcement
in print seemed to arouse them to a point of
enthusiasm. Everyone from the servants up-
I wards possessed a copy of The Morning Post, with
|the single exception of Mrs. Barnes, who had mis-
laid hers and made everybody's life a misery by
isisting on examining their copy to make quite
Hire that they had not taken hers by mistake.

Had not Patricia been so preoccupied, she could
lot have failed to notice the atmosphere of sup-
pressed excitement at Galvin House. Many
jlances were directed at her, glances of superior
lowledge, of which she was entirely unconscious.
Woman-like she never paused to ask herself what
ic really felt or what she really meant. Her
:houghts ran in a circle, coming back inevitably
:o the maddening question, " What does he really
:hink of me ? " Why had Fate been so unkind
is to undermine a possible friendship with that
lamning introduction ? After all, she would

PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
ask herself indifferently, what did it matter?
Bowen was nothing to her. Then back again
her thoughts would rush to the inevitable ques-
tion, what did he really think ?

Since the night of her adventure, Patricia
had formed the habit of dressing for dinner. She
made neither excuse nor explanation to herself
as to why she did so. Miss Wangle and Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe, however, had covertly re-
marked upon the fact ; but Patricia had ignored
them. She had reached that state in her psycho-
logical development when she neither explained
nor denied things.

With delicacy and insight Providence has
withheld from woman the uncomfortable quality
of introspection. Had Patricia subjected her
actions to the rigid test of reason, she would have
found them strangely at variance with her
determination. With a perversity characteristic
of her sex, she forbade Bowen to see her, and
then spent hours in speculating as to when and
how he would disobey her. A parcel in the hall
at Galvin House sent the colour flooding to her
cheeks, whilst Gustave, entering the lounge, bear-
ing his flamboyant nickle-plated apology for the
conventional silver salver, set her heart thumping
with expectation.

As the day on which Bowen was to dine ail
Galvin House drew near, the excitement becam(
intense, developing into a panic when the daj
itself dawned. All were wondering how this o:jj

turned and bolted

192 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

In one room Mrs. Barnes sat on her bed in an
agony of indecision and a camisole, wondering
how the seams of her only evening frock could be
made black with the blue-black ink that had been
given her at the stationer's shop in error

Mr. James Harris, a little bearded man with long
legs and a short body, stood in front of his glass, I
frankly baffled by the problem of how to keep the
top of his trousers from showing above the opening
of his low-cut evening waistcoat, an abandoned
garment that seemed determined to show all that
it was supposed to hide.

Miss Sikkum was engaged hi a losing game with
delicacy. On her lap lay the Brixton " Paris
model blouse," which she had adorned with narrow
black velvet ribbon. Should she or should she not
enlarge the surface of exposure ? If she did Miss
Wangle might think her fast ; if she did not
Lord Peter might think her suburban.

Mr. Sefton was at work upon his back hair,
striving to remove from his reflection in the glass,
a likeness to a sandy cockatoo.

Mr. Cordal was vainly struggling with a volumin-
ous starched shirt, which as he bent seemed deter-
mined to give him the appearance of a pouter
pigeon.

To each his tragedy and to all their anguish.
Even Miss Wangle had her problem. Should she
or should she not remove the lace from the modest
V in her black silk evening gown. The thought ol
the bishop, however, proved too much for her, anc

GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD 193
her collar-bones continued to remain a mystery
to Galvin House.

The dinner-gong found everyone anxious and
prepared. All had a vision of Bowen sitting
judgment upon them and mentally comparing
alvin House with Park Lane ; for in Bayswater
Park Lane is the pinnacle of culture and social
splendour.

A few minutes after the last strain of the gong,
pounded by Gustave in a manner worthy of the
occasion, had subsided, Miss Sikkum crept out
rom her room feeling very " undressed." The
ight of Mr. Sefton nearly drove her back precipi-
ately to the maiden fastness of her chamber. " Was
he really too undressed? " she asked herself.
Slowly the guests descended, each anxious to
ede to others the pride of place, all absorbed with
us or her particular tragedy. By the aid of pins
Jr. Cordal had overcome his likeness to a pigeon,
>ut he had not allowed for movement, which tore
he pins from their hold, allowing his shirt-front
o balloon out joyfully before him, for the rest
f the evening obscuring his boots.
Miss Wangle looked at Miss Sikkum and
entally thanked Heaven and the bishop that she
ad restrained her abandoned impulse to remove
iie black lace from her own neck.
Mr. Bolton's attention was concentrated upon
ic centre stud of his shirt. The button-hole was
)o large, and the head of the stud insisted on dis-
ppearing in a most coquettish and embarrassing

194 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
manner. Mr. Bolton was not sure that Bowen
would approve of blue underwear, and conse-
quently kept a finger and thumb upon his stud
for the greater part of the evening.

As each entered the lounge, it was with a
hurried glance round to see if the guest of the
evening had arrived, followed by a sigh of relief
on discovering that he had not. Mrs. Craske-
Morton had taken the precaution of deferring the
dinner until eight o'clock. She wished Bowen's
entry to be dramatic.

Mrs. Craske-Morton had asked a few friends of
her own to meet her distinguished guest ; a Miss
Plimsoll, who was composed in claret colour and
royal blue trimming, and Mr. and Mrs. Samuel
Ragbone. Mrs. Ragbone was a stout, jolly woman
with a pronounced cockney accent. Mr. Ragbone
was a man whose eyebrows seemed to rise higher
with each year, and whose manner of patient
suffering became more pathetically unreal witfc
the passage of each season. Mrs. Craske-Morton
always explained him as a solicitor. Morton,
Gofrim and Bowett, of Lincoln's Inn, knew him
as their chief clerk.

The atmosphere of the lounge was one of nervous
tension. All were listening for the bell whicl
would announce the arrival of Bowen. When
last he came, everybody was taken by surprise
Mr. Bolton 's stud eluded his grasp, Mr. Seftoi
felt his back hair, whilst Miss Sikkum blushe<
rosily at her own daring.

GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD 195

A dead silence spread over the company,
broken by Gustave, who, throwing open the door
with a flourish, announced "Lieutenant-Colonel
Lord Peter Bowen, D.s.o." Bowen gave him a
quick glance with widened eyes, then coming for
ward, shook hands with Mrs. Craske-Morton.

Miss Sikkum was disappointed to find that he
was in khaki. She had a vague idea that the
nobility adopted different evening clothes from
the ordinary rank and file. It would have pleased
her to see Bowen with velvet stripes down his
trousers, a velvet collar and velvet cuffs. A
coloured silk waistcoat would have convinced her.

Mrs. Craske-Morton was determined to do her
work thoroughly. She had taken the precaution
of telling Patricia that dinner would not be served
until a few minutes after eight, that would give
her time to introduce Bowen to all the guests.
She proceeded to conduct him round to everyone
in turn. In her flurry she quite forgot the careful
schooling to which she had subjected herself for
a week past, and she introduced Miss Wangle to
Bowen.

"Lord Peter, allow me to introduce Miss Wangle.
Miss Wangle, Lord Peter Bowen,' and this was
fhe form adopted with the rest of the company

Bowen s sixth DOW had just been interrupted
by Mr Cordal grasping him warmly by the hand,
when Patricia entered. For a moment she looked
about her regarding the strange toilettes, then
she saw Bowen. She felt herself crimsoning as

196 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
he slipped away from Mr. Cordal's grasp and came
across to her. All the guests hung back as if this
were the meeting between Wellington and Bliicher.

" I've done six, there are about twenty more to
do. If you save me, Patricia, I'll forgive you any-
thing after we're married."

Patricia shook hands sedately.

Mrs. Craske-Morton bustled up to re-claim
Bowen. " A little surprise, Miss Brent ; I hope
you will forgive me."

Patricia smiled at her in anything but a for-
giving spirit.

" And now, Lord Peter, I want to introduce you
j. *»

" Deenair is served, madame." Gustave was
certainly doing the thing in style.

At a sign from Mrs. Craske-Morton, Miss Wangle
secured Mr. Samuel Ragbone and they started
for the dining-room. The remainder of the guests
paired off in accordance with Mrs. Craske-Morton's
instructions, written and verbal, she left nothing
to chance, and the procession was brought up by
Mrs. Craske-Morton herself and Bowen. Patricia
fell to the lot of Mr. Sefton.

As soon as the guests were seated a death-
like stillness reigned. Bowen was looking round
with interest as he unfolded his napkin into which
had been deftly inserted a roll. Miss Sikkum,
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe and Mr. Bolton each lost
their rolls, which were retrieved from underneath
the table by Gustave and Alice.

GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD 197

Mr. Sefton, also unconscious of the secreted
roll, opened his napkin with a debonair jerk to
show that he was quite at his ease. The bread
rose in the air. He made an unsuccessful clutch,
touched but could not hold it, and watched with
horror the errant roll hit Miss Wangle playfully
on the side of the nose, just as she was beginning
to tell Bowen about " the dear bishop."

Patricia bit her lip, Bowen bent solicitously
over the angry Miss Wangle, whilst Mr. Bolton
threatened to report Mr. Sefton to the Food Con-
troller. Gustave created a diversion by arriving
with the soup. His white cotton gloves, several
sizes too large even for his hands, caused him great
anxiety. Every spare moment during the evening
he spent in clutching them at the wrists, just as
they were on the point of slipping off. Nothing,
however, could daunt his courage or mitigate his
good-humour. For the first time in his life he
was waiting upon a real lord, and from the circum-
stance he was extracting every ounce of satis-
faction it possessed.

In serving Bowen his attitude was that of one
self-convicted of unworthiness Accustomed to
the complaints and bickerings of a Bayswater
boarding-house, Bowen's mattei-of-fact motions
of acceptance 01 refusal impressed him pro-
foundly So this was how lords behaved Nothing
so impressed him as the little incident of thf
champagne

At Galvin House it was the custom for the

PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
guests to have their own drinks. Mr. Cordal, for
instance, drank what the label on the bottle
announced to be "Gumton's Superior Light Dinner
Ale." Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe favoured Guinness's
Stout, Miss Sikkum took hot water, whilst Miss
Wangle satisfied herself with a claret bottle.
There is refinement in claret, the dear bishop
always drank it, with water : but as claret costs
money Miss Wangle made a bottle last for months.

The thought of the usual heterogeneous collec-
tion of bottles on the occasion of Lord Peter's
visit had filled Mrs. Craske-Morton with horror,
and she had decided to "spring" wine, as Mr.
Bolton put it. In other words, she supplied for
the whole company four bottles of one-and-
eightpenny claret, the bottles rendered beautifully
old by applied dust and cobwebs. To this she
had added a bottle of grocer's champagne for
Bowen. Gustave had been elaborately instruc-
ted that this was for the principal guest and the
principal guest only, and Mrs. Craske-Morton
had managed to convey to him in some subtle
way that if he poured so much as a drop of the
precious fluid into any other person's glass, the
consequences would be too terrifying even to
contemplate.

Whilst Galvin House was murmuring softly over
its soup, Gustave approached Bowen with the
champagne bottle swathed in a white napkin, and
looking suspiciously like an infant in long clothes.
Holding the end of the bottle's robes with the left

GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD 199
hand so that it should not tickle Bowen's ear,
Gustave bent anxiously to his task.

Bowen, however, threw a bomb-shell at the
earnest servitor. He motioned that he did not
desire champagne. Gustave hesitated and looked
enquiringly at his mistress. Here was an unlooked-
for development.

" You'll take champagne ? " enquired Mrs.
Craske-Morton ingratiatingly.

Gustave breathed again, and whilst Bowen's
attention was distracted in explaining to Mrs.
Craske-Morton that he preferred water, he had a
delicate taste in wine, Gustave filled the glass
happily. Of course, it was all right, he told him-
self, the lord merely wanted to be pressed. If he
had really meant " no," he would have put his
hand over his glass, as Miss Sikkum always did
when she refused some of Mr. Cordal's " Light
Dinner Ale."

Gustave retired victorious with the champagne
bottle, which he placed upon the sideboard. At
every interval in his manifold duties, Gustave
returned with the white-clothed bottle, and strove
to squeeze a few more drops into Bowen's un-
touched glass.

The terrifying constraint with which the meal
had opened gradually wore off as the wine circu-
lated. Following the path of least resistance,
it mounted to Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe's head ; but
with Miss Sikkum it seemed to stop short at her
nose. Mr. Cordal's shirt-front announced that

200 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
he had temporarily given up Gumton in favour
of the red, red wine of the smoking-concert bari-
tone. Mrs. Barnes seemed on the point of tears,
whilst Mr. Sefton's attentions to Patricia were
a direct challenge to Bowen.

Conversation at Galvin House was usually
general ; but it now became particular. Every
remark was directed either to or at Bowen, and
each guest strove to hear what he said. Those
who were fortunate enough to catch his replies
told those who were not. A smile or a laugh from
anyone who might be in conversation with Bowen
rippled down the table. Mr. Cordal was less
intent upon his food, and his inaccuracy of aim
became more than ever noticeable.

" Oh, Lord Bowen ! " simpered Miss Sikkum,
" do tell us where you got the D.S.O."

Bowen screwed his glass into his eye and looked
across at Miss Sikkum, at the redness of her nose
and the artificial rose in her hair. Everyone was
waiting anxiously for Bowen's reply. Mr. Cordal
grunted approval.

" At Buckingham Palace," said Bowen, " from
the King. They give you special leave, you
know."

Patricia looked across at him and smiled. What
was he thinking of Galvin House refinement ?
What did he think of her for being there ? Well,
he had brought it on himself and he deserved his
punishment. At first Patricia had been amused:
but as the meal dragged wearily on, amusement

GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD 201
developed into torture. Would it never end ? She
glanced from Miss Wangle, all graciousness and
smiles, to Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, in her faded
blue evening-frock, on to Miss Sikkum bare and
abandoned. She heard Mr. Sefton's chatter, Mr.
Bolton's laugh, Mr. Cordal's jaws and lips. She
shuddered. Why did not she accept the opening
of escape that now presented itself and marry
Bowen? He could rescue her from all this and
what it meant.

" And shall we all be asked to the wedding,
Lord Bowen ? "

It was again Miss Sikkum's thin voice that
broke through the curtain of Patricia's thoughts.

" I hope all Miss Brent's friends will be there,"
replied Bowen diplomatically.

" And now we shall all have to fetch and carry
for Miss Brent," laughed Mr. Bolton. " Am I your
friend, Miss Brent ? " he enquired.

" She always laughs at your jokes when nobody
else can," snapped Miss Pilkington.

Everybody turned to the speaker, who during
the whole meal had silently nursed her resentment
at having been placed at the bottom of the table.
Mr. Bolton looked crestfallen. Bowen looked
across at Patricia and saw her smile sympatheti-
cally at Mr. Bolton.

" I think from what I have heard, Mr. Bolton,"
he said, " that you may regard yourself as one of
the elect."

Patricia flashed Bowen a grateful look. Mr.

202 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Bolton beamed and, turning to Miss Pilkington,
said with his usual introductory laugh:

" Then I shall return good for evil, Miss Pilking-
ton, and persuade Lady Peter to buy her stamps
at your place."

Miss Pilkington flushed at this reference to her
calling, a particularly threadbare joke of Mr.
Bolton's.

" When is it to be, Lord Peter ? " enquired Mrs.
Craske-Morton.

Miss Sikkum looked down modestly at her plate,
not quite certain whether or no this were a delicate
question

" That rests with Miss Brent," replied Bo wen,
smiling. " If you, her friends, can persuade her
to make it soon, I shall be very grateful."

Miss Sikkum simpered and murmured under her
breath, " How romantic."

" Now, Miss Brent," said Mr. Bolton, " it's up
to you to name the happy day."

Patricia smiled, conscious that all eyes were
upon her ; but particularly conscious of Bo wen's
gaze.

" I believe in long engagements," she said,
stealing a glance at Bowen and thrilling at the
look of disappointment on his face. " Didn'1
Jacob serve seven years for Rachel ? "

" Yes, and got the wrong girl then," brok(
in Mr. Bolton. " You'll have to be careful
Miss Brent, or Miss Sikkum will get ahead o
you."

GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD 203

" Really, Mr. Bolton ! " said Mrs. Craske-Morton,
looking anxiously at Bowen.

Miss Sikkum's cheeks had assumed the same
tint as her nose, and her eyes were riveted upon
her plate. Miss Pilkington muttered something
under her breath about Mr. Bolton's remark being
outrageous.

" I think we'll take coffee in the lounge," said
Mrs. Craske-Morton, rising. Turning to Bowen,
she added, " We follow the American custom,
Lord Peter, the gentlemen always leave the
dining-room with the ladies."

There was a pushing back of chairs and a
shuffling of feet and Galvin House rose from its
repast.

" Coffee will not be served for half an hour, and
if you and Miss Brent would like to — to "

Mrs. Craske-Morton paused significantly. " My
boudoir is at your service."

Bowen looked at her and then at Patricia. He
saw the flush on her cheeks and the humiliation
in her eyes.

" I think we should much prefer not to interrupt
our pleasant conversation. What do you say,
Patricia ? " he enquired, turning to Patricia,
who smiled her acquiescence.

They all trooped into the lounge, where every-
body except Patricia, Bowen and Mrs. Craske-
Morton stood about in awkward poses. The
arrival of Gustave with coffee relieved the tension.

For the next hour each guest endeavoured to

204 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
attract to himself or herself Bowen's attention,
and each was disappointed when at length he rose
to go and shook hands only with Mrs. Craske-
Morton, including the others in a comprehensive
bow. Still more were they disappointed and
surprised when Patricia did not go out into the
hall to see him off.

" Oh, Miss Brent ! " simpered Miss Sikkum,
" aren't you going to say good night to him ? "

" Good night ! " interrogated Patricia, " but
I did/'

"Yes; but I mean " began Miss Sikkum.

" Oh, you know," she said with a simper, but
Patricia had passed over to a chair, where she
seated herself and began to read a newspaper
upside down.

Miss Sikkum's romantic soul had received a
shock.

CHAPTER XV

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA IN KENSINGTON GARDEN?

WELL, me dear, 'ow goes it ? "
Mr. Triggs flooded the room with
his genial person, mopping his brow
with a large bandana handkerchief, and blowing
a cheerful protest against the excessive heat.

Patricia looked up from her work and greeted
him with a tired smile, as he collapsed heavily
upon a chair, which creaked ominously beneath
his weight.

' When you're sixty-two in the shade it ain't
like being twenty-five in the sun," he said, laughing
happily at his joke.

" Now you must sit quiet and be good,"
admonished Patricia. " I'm busy with beetles."

" Busy with what ? " demanded Mr. Triggs
arresting the process of fanning himself with his
handkerchief.

'The potato -beetle," explained Patricia.
' There is no lack of variety in the life of an
M.P.'s secretary : babies and beetles, pigs and
potatoes, meat and margarine, they all have their
allotted place."

205

206 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Arthur works you too 'ard, me dear, I'm
afraid," said Mr. Triggs. " I must speak to 'im
about it."

" Oh, Mr. Triggs ! You mustn't do anything
of the sort. He's most kind and considerate, and
if I am here I must do what he wants."

" But beetles and babies and potatoes, me dear,"
said Mr. Triggs. " That's more than a joke.'*

" Oh ! you don't know what a joke a beetle
can be," said Patricia, looking up and laughing
in spite of herself at the expression of anxiety on
Mr. Triggs's face.

Mr. Triggs mumbled something to himself.

" God bless my soul ! " he exclaimed a momem
after. ' 'Ere am I, forgetting what I come about.
I've seen The Morning Post, me dear."

Patricia pushed back her chair from the table
and turned and faced Mr. Triggs.

" Mr. Triggs," she said, " if you mention the
words Morning Post to me again I think I shall
kill you."

Mr. Triggs's hands dropped to his side as he
gazed at her in blank astonishment. " But, me
dear " he began.

"The engagement has been broken off," an-:
nounced Patricia.

Mr. Triggs's jaw dropped, and he gazed at
Patricia in amazement. " Broken off," he re-
peated. " Engagement broken off. Why, damn
'im, I'll punch 'is 'ead," and he made an effort
to rise.

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 207

Patricia laughed, a little hysterically.

" You mustn't blame Lord Peter," she said.
•" It is I who have broken it off."

Mr. Triggs collapsed into the chair again
r You broke it off," he exclaimed. " You broke
off the engagement with a nice young chap like
im ? "

Patricia nodded.

" Well, I'm blowed ! " Mr. Triggs sat staring
it Patricia as if she had suddenly become trans-
'ormed into a dodo. After nearly a minute's
;ontemplation of Patricia, a smile slowly spread
tself over his features, like the sun breaking
:hrough a heavy cloud-laden sky.

" You been 'avin' a quarrel, that's what's the
natter," he announced with a profound air of
•visdom.

Patricia shook her head with an air of finality ;
:mt Mr. Triggs continued to nod his head wisely.

" That's what's the matter," he muttered.
1 Why," he added, " you'll never get another
/oung chap like 'im. Took a great fancy to 'im,
' did. Now all you've got to do is just to kiss and
nake it up. Then you'll feel 'appier than ever
ifterwards."

Patricia realised the impossibility of conveying
:o Mr. Triggs that her decision was irrevocable,
furthermore she was anxious that he should go,
is she had promised to get out certain statistics
or Mr. Bonsor.

"Now you really must go Mr. Triggs. You

208 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
won't think me horrid, will you, but I had a half-
holiday the other day, and now I must work and
make up for it That's only fair, isn't it ? "

" Very well, me dear, I can't stay. I'll be off
and get out of your way. Now don't forget. Make
it up, kiss and be friends. That's my motto."

" It isn't a quarrel, Mr. Triggs ; but it's no use
trying to explain to anyone so sweet and nice as
you. Anyhow, I have broken off the engagement,
and Lord Peter is in no way to blame."

" Well, good-bye, me dear. I'll see you again
soon," said Mr. Triggs, still nodding his head
with genial conviction as to the Tightness of his
diagnosis. " And now I'll be trottin'. Don't for-
get," and with a final look over his shoulder and
another nod of wisdom he floated out of the room,
seeming to leave it cold and bare behind him.

"Well, I'm blowed ! " he muttered as he walked
away from Eaton Square. Arrived at the corner
of Eaton Place, he stood still as if uncertain what
direction to take. Seeing a crawling taxi he sud-
denly seemed inspired with an idea.

" Hi ! Hi ! Taxi ! " he shouted, waving his
umbrella. Having secured the taxi and given the
man instructions to drive to the Quadrant, he
hauled himself in and sat down with a sigh oi
satisfaction.

It was a few minutes to one as he asked foi
Lord Peter Bowen at the enquiry-office of th(
Quadrant. Two minutes later Peel descendec
in the lift to inform him that his Lordship hac

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 209

not yet returned to lunch. Was Mr. Triggs ex-
pected ?

" Well, no," confessed Mr. Triggs, looking at
Peel a little uncertainly. " 'E wasn't expecting
me ; but 'e asked me the other night if I'd call
in when I was passing, and as I was passing I
called in, see ? "

For a moment Peel seemed to hesitate.

" His Lordship has a luncheon engagement,
sir," he said ; " but he could no doubt see you
for two or three minutes if he asked you to call.
Perhaps you will step this way."

Before Mr. Triggs had a chance of doing as was
suggested, Peel had turned aside.

" No, my lady, his Lordship is not in yet ; but
he will not be more than a minute or two. This
gentleman," he looked at the card, " Mr. Triggs,

ic____"

" Oh, Mr. Triggs, how do you do ? " cried Lady
Tanagra, extending her hand.

Mr. Triggs looked at the exquisite little vision
before him in surprise and admiration. He took
the proffered hand as if it had been a piece of
priceless porcelain.

"I'm Lord Peter's sister, you know. I've
heard all about you from Patricia. Do come up
and let us have a chat before my brother comes."

Mr. Triggs followed Lady Tanagra into the lift,
too surprised and bewildered to make any response
to her greeting. As the lift slid upwards he mopped
his brow vigorously with his handkerchief.

210 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

When they were seated in Bowen's sitting-room
he at last found voice.

" I just been to see *er," he said.

' Who, Patricia ? '" asked Lady Tanagra.

Mr. Triggs nodded, and there was a look in his
eyes which implied that he was not at all satisfied
with what he had seen.

" Quarrelled, 'aven't they ? " he asked.

" Well," began Lady Tanagra, not quite know-
ing how much Mr. Triggs actually knew of the
circumstances of the case.

" Said she'd broken it off. I gave her a talking i
to, I did. She'll never get another young chap
like 'im."

" Did you tell her so ? " asked Lady Tanagra.

" Tell her so, I should think I did ! " said Mr.
Triggs, " and more than once too."

" Oh, you foolish, foolish man ! " cried Lady
Tanagra, wringing her hands in mock despair.
A moment afterwards she burst out laughing at
the comical look of dismay on Mr. Triggs's face.

" What 'ave I done ? " he cried in genuine
alarm.

"Why, don't you see that you have implied
that all the luck is on her side, and that will make
her simply furious ? "

" But — but " began Mr. Triggs helplessly,

looking very much like a scolded child.

"Now sit down," ordered Lady Tanagra with
an irresistible smile, " and I'll tell you. My
brother wants to marry Patricia, and Patricia,

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 211

for some reason best known to herself, says that
it can't be done. Now I'm sure that she is fond
of Peter ; but he has been so impetuous that he
has rather taken her breath away. I've never
known him like it before/' said Lady Tanagra
plaintively.

" But 'e's an awfully lucky fellow if 'e gets
'er," broke in Mr. Triggs, as if feeling that some-
thing were required of him.

"Why, of course he is," said Lady Tanagra.
" Now will you help us, Mr. Triggs ? "

Lady Tanagra looked at him with an expres-
sion that would have extracted a promise of help
from St. Anthony himself.

" Of course I will, me dear. I — I beg your
pardon," stuttered Mr. Triggs.

" Never mind, let it stand at that," said Lady
Tanagra gaily. " I'm sure we're going to be
friends, Mr. Triggs."

' Knew it the moment I set eyes on you," said
Mr. Triggs with conviction^

" Well, we've got to arrange this affair for these
young people," said Lady Tanagra with a wise
air. " First of all we've got to prove to Patricia
that she is really in love with Peter. If she's
not in love with him, then we've got to make her
in love with him. Do you understand ? '

Mr. Triggs nodded his head with an air that
clearly said he was far from understanding.

" Well, now," said Lady Tanagra. " Patricia
knows only three people that know Peter. There

212 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
is you, Godfrey Elton, and myself. Now if she's
in love with him she will want to hear about him,
and "

" But ain't she going to see 'im ? " demanded
Mr. Triggs incredulously.

" No, she says that she doesn't want Peter
ever to see her, write to her, telephone to her, or,
as far as I can see, exist on the same planet with
her."

" But — but " began Mr. Triggs.

" It's no good reasoning with a woman, Mr.
Triggs, we women are all as unreasonable as the
Income Tax. Now if you'll do as you are told we
will prove that Patricia is wrong."

" Very well, me dear," began Mr. Triggs.

" Now this is my plan," interrupted Lady
Tanagra. " If Patricia really cares for Peter she
will want to hear about him from friends. She
will, very cleverly, as she thinks, lead up the con-
versation to him when she meets you, or when she
meets Godfrey Elton, or when she meets me. Now
what we have to do is just as carefully to avoid
talking about him. Turn the conversation on to
some other topic. Now we've all got to plot and
scheme and plan like — like "

" Germans," interrupted Mr. Triggs.

"Splendid!" cried Lady Tanagra, clapping
her hands.

" But why has she changed her mind ? " asked
Mr. Triggs.

"You must never ask a woman why she

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 213

changes her frock, or why she changes her mind,
Because she never really knows," said Lady
Fanagra. " Probably she does it because she
lasn't got anything else particular to do at the
noment. Ah ! here's Peter," she cried.

Bowen came forward and shook hands cordially
#ith Mr. -Triggs.

" This is splendid of you ! " he said. " You'll
unch with us, of course."

" Oh no, no," said Mr. Triggs. " I just ran in
to— to "

' To get to know me," said Lady Tanagra with
i smile.

" Of course ! That's it," cried Mr. Triggs, beam-
ing, "il can't stop to lunch though, I'm afraid.
[ must be going to "

" Have you got a luncheon engagement ? "
asked Lady Tanagra.

" Er— well, yes."

" Please don't tell fibs, Mr. Triggs. You're not
engaged to lunch with anybody, and you're going
to lunch with us, so that's settled."

" Why, bless my soul ! " blew Mr. Triggs help-
lessly as he mopped his head with his handker-
chief. " Why, bless my soul 1 "

" It's no good, Mr. Triggs. When Tanagra
wants anything she has it," said Bowen with a
laugh. " It doesn't matter whether it's the largest
pear or the nicest man ! "

Lady Tanagra laughed. " Now we'll go down
into the dining-room."

214 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

For an hour and a half they talked of Patricia,
and at the end of the meal both Lady Tanagra
and Bowen knew that they had a firm ally in Mr.
Triggs.

" Don't forget, Mr. Triggs," cried Lady Tanagra
as she bade him good-bye in the vestibule. " You're
a match-maker now, and you must be very care-
ful."

And Mr. Triggs lifted his hat and waved his
umbrella as, wreathed in smiles, he trotted towards
the revolving doors and out into the street.

After he had gone Lady Tanagra extracted from
Bowen a grudging promise of implicit obedience.
He must not see, telephone, write or telegraph to
Patricia. He was to eliminate himself altogether.

" But for how long, Tan ? " he enquired
moodily.

" It may be for years and it may be for ever,"
cried Lady Tanagra gaily as she buttoned her
gloves. " Anyhow, it's your only chance."

" Damn ! " muttered Bowen under his breath
as he watched her disappear; " but I'll give it a
trial."

n

The next afternoon as Patricia walked down the
steps of Number 426 Eaton Square and turned
to the left, she was conscious that in spite of the
summer sunshine the world was very grey about
her. She had not gone a hundred yards before
Lady Tanagra's grey car slid up beside her.

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 215

' Will you take pity on me, Patricia ? I'm at

loose end," cried Lady Tanagra.

Patricia turned with a little cry of pleasure.

' Jump in," cried Lady Tanagra. " It's no
ood refusing a Bowen. Our epidermises are too
hick, or should it be epidermi ? "

Patricia shook her head and laughed as she
sated herself beside Lady Tanagra.

The car crooned its way up Sloane Street and
cross into Knightsbridge, Lady Tanagra intent
pon her driving.

" Is it indiscreet to ask where you are taking
ae ? " enquired Patricia with elaborate humility.

Lady Tanagra laughed as she jammed on the
•rake to avoid running into the stern of a motor-
>mnibus.

" I feel like a pirate to-day. I want to run
.way with someone, or do something desperate,
lave you ever felt like that ? "

" A politician's secretary must not encourage
uch unrespectable instincts," she replied.

Lady Tanagra looked at her quickly, noting the
latness of her voice.

" A wise hen should never brood upon being
i hen," she remarked oracularly.

Patricia laughed. " It is all very well for Dives
o tell Lazarus that it is noble to withstand the
Dangs of hunger," she replied.

" Now let us go and get tea," said Lady Tanagra,
is she turned the car into the road running between
Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park.

216 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Tea ! " cried Patricia, " why it's past five/'

" Tea is a panacea for all ills and a liquid for all
hours. You have only to visit a Government
Department for proof of that," said Lady Tanagra,
as she descended from the car and walked towards
the umbrella-sheltered tea-tables dotted about
beneath the trees. " And now I want to have a
talk with you for a few minutes/' she said as they
seated themselves at an empty table.

" I feel in the mood for listening," said Patricia,
" provided it is not to be good advice," she added.

" I've been having a serious talk with Peter,"
said Lady Tanagra.

Patricia looked up at her. Overhead white,
fleecy clouds played a game of hide-and-seek with
the sunshine. The trees rustled languidly in the
breeze, and in the distance a peacock screamed
ominously.

" I have told him," continued Lady Tanagra,
" that I will not have you worried, and he has
promised me not to see you, write to you, tele-
phone to you, send you messenger-boys, choco-
lates, flowers or anything else in the world, in
fact he's out of your way for ever and ever."

Patricia looked across at Lady Tanagra in
surprise, but said nothing.

" 1 told him," continued Lady Tanagra evenly,
" that I would not have my friendship with you
spoiled through his impetuous blundering. I
think I told him he was suburban. In fact I
quite bullied the poor boy. So now," she added

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 217

4th the air of one who has earned a lifelong debt

gratitude, " you will be able to go your way
ithout fear of the ubiquitous Peter/'

Still Patricia said nothing as she sat looking
own upon the empty plate before her.

Now we will forget all about Peter and talk
nd think of other things. Ah ! here he is," she
tied suddenly.

Patricia looked round quickly ; but at the
ght of Godfrey Elton she was conscious of a
:eling of disappointment that she would not,
Dwever, admit. Her greeting of Elton was a
ifle forced.

Patricia was never frank with herself. If it had
sen suggested that for a moment she hoped that
ady Tanagra's remark referred to Bowen, she
ould instantly have denied it.

No, Godfrey, don't look at me like that,"
ied Lady Tanagra. " I am not so gauche as to
-range a parti-a-trois. I've got someone very
ice coming for Patricia."

Again Patricia felt herself thrill expectantly,
ive minutes later Mr. Triggs was seen sailing along
nong the tables as if in search of someone. Again
atricia felt that sense of disappointment she had
sperienced on the arrival of Godfrey Elton.

Suddenly Mr. Triggs saw the party and streamed
)wards them, waving his red silk handkerchief in
Qe hand and his umbrella in the other.

11 He has found something better than the
mntain of eternal youth " said Elton to Patricia.

218 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

' Whatever it is he is unconscious of possessing
it," replied Patricia as she turned to greet Mr,
Triggs.

"I'm late, I know," explained Mr. Triggs as
he shook hands. " I 'ad to run in and see 'Ettie
and tell 'er I was coming. It surprised 'er," and
Mr. Triggs chuckled as if at some joke he could
not share with the others.

" Now let us have tea," said Lady Tanagra
" I'm simply dying for it."

Mr. Triggs sank down heavily into a basket
chair. He looked about anxiously, as it creakec
beneath his weight, as if in doubt whether or n<
it would bear him.

" All we want now is " Mr. Triggs stoppe<

suddenly and looked apprehensively at Lad;
Tanagra.

" What is it you want, Mr. Triggs ? " enquirei
Patricia quickly.

" Er — er — I — I forget, I— I forget," flounders
Mr. Triggs, still looking anxiously at Lad]
Tanagra.

" When you're in the company of women, Mi
Triggs, you should never appear to want anythin
else. It makes an unfavourable impression upo

us."

" God bless my soul, I don't ! " cried Mr. Trig£
earnestly. "I've been looking forward to this eve
since I got your wire yesterday afternoon."

"Now he has given me away," cried Lad
Tanagra. " How like a man ! "

MR. TR1GGS TAKES TEA 219

" Given you away, me dear ! " cried Mr.
friggs anxiously. " What 'ave I done ? "
" Why, you have told these two people here that
made an assignation with you by telegram."
" Made a what, me dear ? " enquired Mr.
riggs, his forehead corrugated with anxiety.
" Lady Tanagra is taking a mean advantage of
tie heat, Mr. Triggs," said Elton.

' Anyway, I'll forgive you anything, Mr. Triggs,
s you have come," said Lady Tanagra.
Mr. Triggs's brow cleared and he smiled.
"Come! I should think I would come," he
aid.

Lady Tanagra then explained her meeting with
. Triggs and how he had striven to avoid her
ompany at luncheon on the previous day. Mr.
riggs protested vigorously.
During the tea the conversation was entirely in
he hands of Lady Tanagra, Elton and Mr. Triggs.
atricia sat silently listening to the others.
>everal times Lady Tanagra and Mr. Triggs ex-
hanged meaning glances.

' Why ain't you talking, me dear ? " Mr.
Triggs once asked.

' I like to hear you all," said Patricia, smiling
icross at him. " You're all too clever for me," she
idded.

' Me clever ! " cried Mr. Triggs, and then as if
he humour of the thing had suddenly struck him
ic went off into gurgles of laughter. " You ought
o tell 'Ettie that," he spluttered. " She thinks 'er

220 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

old father's a fool. Me clever ! " he repeated, anc

again he went off into ripples of mirth.

" What are your views on love, Mr. Triggs ? "I
demanded Lady Tanagra suddenly.

Mr. Triggs gazed at her in surprise.

Then he looked from Patricia to Elton, as if nc
quite sure whether or no he were expected to
serious,

"If I were you I should decline to reply
Lady Tanagra treats serious subjects flippantly/
said Elton. " Her attitude towards life is to pre
pare a pancake as if it were a souffle."

" That proves the Celt in me," cried Lad]
Tanagra. "If I were English I should mi
a souffle as if it were a pancake."

Mr. Triggs looked from one to the other ii
obvious bewilderment.

" I am perfectly serious in my question," sail
Lady Tanagra, without the vestige of a smile
" Mr. Triggs is elemental."

"To be elemental is to be either indelicate o
overbearing," murmured Elton, " and Mr. Trigg
is neither."

"Love, me dear?" said Mr. Triggs, not in th
least understanding the trend of the conversa
tion. " I don't think I've got any ideas about it.

" Surely you are not a cynic. Mr. Triggs,
demanded Lady Tanagra.

" A what ? " enquired Mr. Triggs.

"Surely you believe in love," said Lad
Tanagra.

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 221

" Me and Mrs. Triggs lived together 'appily for
|ver thirty years," he replied gravely, " and when
j man an' woman 'ave lived together fcr all that
'.me they get to believe in love. It's never been
he same since she died." His voice became a little
jusky, and Elton looked at Lady Tanagra, who
pwered her eyes.
| " I'm sorry, Mr. Triggs. Will you tell us about —

Ibout ? " she broke off.

"Well, you see, me dear," said Mr. Triggs in an

jncertain voice, " I was a foreman when I met 'er,

jtid she was a servant ; but — somehow or other

i seemed that we were just made for each other.

I'nce I knew 'er, I didn't seem to be able to see

'lings without her. When I was at work — I was

ji the building trade, foreman-carpenter," he

tplained, " I used to be thinking of 'er all the

me. If I went anywhere without 'er — she only

ad one night off a week and one day a month —

would always keep thinking of how she would

ke what I was seeing, or eating. It was a funny

Deling," he added reminiscently as if entirely

liable to explain it. " Somehow or other I

,lways wanted to 'ave 'er with me, so that she

light share what I was 'aving. It was a funny

;eling," lie repeated, and he looked from one to

nother with moist eyes. " Of course," he added,

I can't explain things like that. I'm not clever."

" I think, i\lr. Triggs, that you've explained

>ve in — in- Lady Tanagra broke off and

»oked at Elton, who was unusually grave.

222 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Mr. Triggs has explained it," he replied, "in
the only way in which it can be explained, and that
is by being defined as unexplainable."

Mr. Triggs looked at Elton for a moment, then
nodded his head violently.

" That's it, Mr. Elton, that's it. It's a feeling,
not a thing that you can put into words."

Lady Tanagra looked at Patricia, who was
apparently engrossed in the waving tops of the
trees.

" I shall always remember your definition o!
love, Mr. Triggs," said Lady Tanagra with a far
away look in her eyes. " I think you and Mrs
Triggs must have been very happy together."

" 'Appy, me dear, that wasn't the word for it/
said Mr. Triggs. " And when she was taken, I-

I " he broke off huskily and blew his nos<

vigorously.

" Suppose you were very poor, Mr. Triggs,1
began Patricia.

" I was when I married," interrupted Mi
Triggs.

" Suppose you were very poor," continue
Patricia, " and you loved someone very rid
What would you do ? "

" God bless my soul ! I never thought of tha
You see Emily 'adn't anything. She only gqf
sixteen pounds a year."

Lady Tanagra turned her head aside ac |
blinked her eyes furiously.

" But suppose, Mr. Triggs," persisted Patrici

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 223

suppose you loved someone who was very rich
nd you were very poor. What would you do ?
Vould you tell them ? "

For a moment Patricia allowed her eyes to
lance in the direction of Elton, and saw that his
iaze was fixed upon Mr. Triggs.

" But what 'as money got to do with it ? "
emanded Mr. Triggs, a puzzled expression on his
ice.

Exactly ! " said Patricia. " That's what I
ted to know."

Money sometimes has quite a lot to do with
e," remarked Elton to no one in particular.

With life, Mr. Elton," said Mr. Triggs ; " but
t with love."

You are an idealist," said Lady Tanagra.
" Am I ? " said Mr. Triggs, with a smile.
" And he is also a dear," said Patricia.
Mr. Triggs looked at her and smiled.

Lady Tanagra and Elton drove off, Patricia
tying that she wanted a walk. Mr. Triggs also
aclined Lady Tanagra's offer of a lift.

She wanted me to bring 'er with me," an-
Dunced Mr. Triggs as they strolled along by the
^rpentine.

' Who did ? " enquired Patricia.
1 'Ettie. Ran up to change 'er things and sent
at for a taxi."

And what did you say ? " enquired Patricia.
I didn't say anything ; but when the taxi

224 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
come I just slipped in and came along 'ere. Fancy
'Ettie and Lady Tanagra ! " said Mr. Triggs. " No,"
he added a moment later. " It's no good trying
to be what you ain't. If 'Ettie was to remember
she's a builder's daughter, and not think she's
a great lady, she'd be much 'appier," said Mr.
Triggs with unconscious wisdom.

" Suppose I was to try and be like Mr. Elton,"
continued Mr. Triggs, " I'd look like a fool."

" We all love to have you just as you are, Mr.
Triggs, and we won't allow you to change," said
Patricia.

Mr. Triggs smiled happily. He was as sus-
ceptible to flattery as a young girl.

" Well, it ain't much good trying to be what
you're not. I've been a working-man, and I'm
not ashamed of it, and you and Lady Tanagra and
Mr. Elton ain't ashamed of being seen with me.
But 'Ettie, she'd no more be seen with 'er old
father in Hyde Park than she'd be seen with 'im
in a Turkish bath."

"We all have our weaknesses, don't you think? "
said Patricia.

And Mr. Triggs agreed.

" You, for instance, have a weakness for Higt
Society," continued Patricia.

" Me, me dear ! " exclaimed Mr. Triggs in sur
prise.

" Yes," said Patricia, " it's no good denying it
Don't you like knowing Lord Peter and Ladj
Tanagra, Mr. Elton and all the rest of them ? "

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA 225

It's not because they're in Society/' began
Ir. Triggs.

" Oh, yes it is ! You imagine that you are now
very great personage. Soon you will be moving
:om Streatham into Park Lane, and then you will
ot know me."

Oh, me dear ! " said Mr. Triggs in distress.
It's no good denying it," continued Patricia.
Look at the way you made friends with Lord
eter." Patricia was priding herself on the way
which she had led the conversation round to
wen ; but Mr. Triggs was not to be drawn.

God bless my soul ! " he cried, stopping still
d removing his hat, mopping his brow vigor-
y. " I don't mind whether anyone has a title
r not. It's just them I like. Now look at Lady
anagra. No one would think she was a lady."

Really, Mr. Triggs ! I shall tell her if you take
er character away in this manner. She's one
f the most exquisitely bred people I have ever
let."

Mr. Triggs looked reproachfully at Patricia.
" It's a bit 'ard on a young gal when she finds
*r father drops 'is aitches," he remarked, reverting

;his daughter. " I often wonder whether I was
»ht in giving 'Ettie such an education. She went
o an 'Igh School at Eastmouth," he added. " It
nly made 'er dissatisfied. It was 'ard luck 'er
iving me for a father," he concluded more to him-
elf than to Patricia.

I am perfectly willing to adopt you as a

226 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
father, Mr. Triggs, if you are in want of adoption,"
said Patricia.

Mr. Triggs turned to her with a sunny smile.

" Ah ! you're different, me dear. You see
you're a lady born, same as Lady Tanagra ; but
'Ettie ain't. That's what makes 'er sensitive like.
It's a funny world," Mr. Triggs continued ; " ii
you go about with one boot, and you 'appen to be
a duke, people make a fuss of you because you'n
a character ; but if you 'appen to be a buildei
and go about in the same way they call you mad.'

That evening Patricia was particularly unre
sponsive to Mr. Bolton's attempts to engage he:
in conversation.

CHAPTER XVI
PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY

PATRICIA'S engagement and approaching
marriage were the sole topics of conversa-
tion at Galvin House, at meal-times in
^articular Bowen was discussed and admired
from every angle and aspect. Questions rained
upon Patricia. When was she likely to get
married ? Where was the wedding to take place ?
Would she go abroad for her honeymoon ? Who
was to provide the wedding-cake ? Where did
she propose to get her trousseau ? Would the
King and Queen be present at the wedding ?

At first Patricia had endeavoured to answer
coherently ; but finding this useless, she soon
drifted into the habit of replying at random, with
the result that Galvin House received much
curious information.

Miss V/angle's olive-branch was an announce-
ment of how pleased the dear bishop would have
been to marry Miss Brent and Lord Peter had
he been alive.

Mr. Bolton joked as feebly as ever. Mr. Cordal
masticated with his wonted vigour. Mr. Sefton
became absorbed in the prospect of the raising

227

228 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
of the military age limit, and strove to hearten
himself by constant references to the time when
he would be in khaki. Miss Sikkum continued to
surround herself with an atmosphere of romance,
and invariably returned in the evening breathless
from her chaste endeavours to escape from some
" awful man " who had pursued her. The reek of
cooking seemed to become more obvious, and the
dreariness of Sundays more pronounced. Some
times Patricia thought of leaving Galvin House
for a place where she would be less notorious ; but
something seemed to bind her to the old associa-
tions.

As she returned each evening, her eyes instinc-
tively wandered towards the table and the letter-
rack. If there were a parcel, her heart would
bound suddenly, only to resume its normal pace
when she discovered that it was for someone else.

Of Lady Tanagra she saw little, news of Bowen
she received none. Her most dexterous endeavours
to cross-examine Mr. Triggs ended in failure. He
seemed to have lost all interest in Bowen. Lady
Tanagra never even mentioned his name.

Whatever the shortcomings of Lady Tanagra
and Mr. Triggs in this direction, however, they
were more than compensated for by Mrs. Bonsor.
Her effusive friendliness Patricia found over-
whelming, and her insistent hospitality, which
took the form of a flood of invitations to Patricia
and Bowen to lunch, dine or to do anything they
chose in her house or elsewhere, was bewildering

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 229

At last in self-defence Patricia had to tell Mrs.
Bonsor that Bowen was too much occupied with
his duties even to see her ; but this seemed to
increase rather than diminish Mrs. Bonsor's
jhospitable instincts, which included Lady Tanagra
,as well as her brother. Would not Miss Brent
bring Lady Tanagra to tea or to luncheon one
day ? Perhaps they would take tea with Mrs.
Bonsor at the Ritz one afternoon ? Could they
lunch at the Carlton ? To all of these invitations
Patricia replied with cold civility.

In her heart Mrs. Bonsor was raging against
the " airs " of her husband's secretary ; but she
saw that Lady Tanagra and Lord Peter might be
extremely useful to her and to her husband in his
career. Consequently she did not by any overt
sign show her pique

One day when Patricia was taking down letters
for Mr. Bonsor, Mr. Triggs burst into the library
in a state of obvious excitement.

1 Where's 'Ettie ? " he demanded, after having
saluted Patricia and Mr. Bonsor.

Mr Bonsor looked at him reproachfully.

' 'Ere. ring for 'Ettie, A. B., I've got something
to show you all '

Mr. Bonsor pressed the bell. As he did so Mrs.
Bonsor entered the room, having heard her father's
vo;ce

With gi eat emoressement Mr. Triggs produced
from the tail pocket of his coat a folded copy of
r.he Illustrated Universe. Flattening it out upon

230 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
the table he moistened his thumb and finger and,
with great deliberation, turned over several leaves,
then indicating a page he demanded :

" What do you think of that ? "

"That," was a full -page picture of Lad]
Tanagra walking in the Park with Mr. Triggs.
The portrait of Lady Tanagra was a little indis-
tinct ; but that of Mr. Triggs was as clear as day-
light, and a remarkable likeness. Underneath
was printed " Lady Tanagra Bo wen and a friend
walking in the Park."

Mrs. Bonsor devoured the picture and then
looked up at her father, a new respect in her eyes.

" What do you think of it, 'Ettie ? " enquired
Mr. Triggs again.

" It's a very good likeness, father/' said Mrs.
Bonsor weakly.

It was Patricia, however, who expressed what
Mr. Triggs had anticipated.

' You're becoming a great personage, Mr.
Triggs," she cried. " If you are not careful you
will compromise Lady Tanagra."

Mr. Triggs chuckled with glee as he mopped
his forehead with his handkerchief.

" I rang 'er up this morning," he said.

" Rang who up, father ? " enquired Mrs.
Bonsor.

" Lady Tan," said Mr. Triggs, watching his
daughter to see the effect of the diminutive upon
her.

" Was she annoyed ? " enquired Mrs. Bonsor.

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 231

" Annoyed ! " echoed Mr. Triggs. " Annoyed !
She was that pleased she's asked me to lunch to-
morrow. Why, she introduced me to a duchess
last week, an' I'm goin' to 'er place to tea."

" I wish you would bring Lady Tanagra here
one day, father," said Mrs. Bonsor. ' Why not
ask her to lunch here to-morrow ? "

" Not me, 'Ettie," said Mr. Triggs wisely. " If
you want the big fish, you've got to go out and
catch 'em yourself."

There was a pause. Patricia hid a smile in her
handkerchief. Mr. Bonsor was deep in a speech
upon the question of rationing fish.

" Well, A. B., what 'ave you got to say ? "

" Dear fish may mean revolution," murmured
Mr. Bonsor.

Mr. Triggs looked at his son-in-law in amaze-
ment.

" What's that you say ? " he demanded.

" I — I beg your pardon. I — I was thinking,"
apologised Mr. Bonsor.

" Now, father," said Mrs. Bonsor, " will you
come into the morning-room ? I want to talk to
you, and I'm sure Arthur wants to get on with his
work."

Mr. Triggs was reluctantly led away, leaving
Patricia to continue the day's work.

Patricia now saw little of Mr. Triggs, in fact
since Lady Tanagra had announced that Bowen
would no longer trouble her, she found life had
become singularly grey. Things that before had

232 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
amused and interested her now seemed dull and
tedious. Mr. Bolton's jokes were more obvious
than ever, and Mr. Cordal's manners more detest
able.

The constant interrogations levelled at her as
to where Bowen was, and why he had not called
to see her, she found difficult to answer. Several
times she had gone alone to the theatre, or to a
cinema, in order that it might be thought she was
with Bowen. At last the strain became so intoler-
able that she spoke to Mrs. Craske-Morton, hinting
that unless Galvin House took a little less interest
in her affairs, she would have to leave.

The effect of her words was instantly manifest.
Wherever she moved she seemed to interrupt
whispering groups. When she entered the dining-
room there would be a sudden cessation of con-
versation, and everyone would look up with an
innocence that was too obvious to deceive even
themselves. If she went into the lounge on her
return from Eaton Square, the same effect was
noticeable. When she was present the conversa-
tion was forced and artificial. Sentences would
be begun and left unfinished, as if the speaker
had suddenly remembered that the subject was
taboo.

Patricia found herself wishing that they would
speak out what was in their minds. Anything
would be preferable to the air of mystery that
seemed to pervade the whole place. She could not
be unaware of the significant glances that were

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 233
exchanged when it was thought she was not look-
ing. Several times she had been asked if she were
not feeling well, anO her looking-glass reflected
a face that was pale and drawn, with dark lines
under the eyes.

One evening, when she had gone to her room
directly after dinner, there was a gentle knock
at her door. She opened it to find Mrs. Hamilton,
looking as if it would take only a word to send her
creeping away again.

" Come in, you dear little Grey Lady," cried
Patricia, putting her arm affectionately round
Mrs. Hamilton's small shoulders, and leading her
over to a basket-chair by the window.

For some time they talked of nothing in particu-
lar. At last Mrs. Hamilton said :

" I — I hope you won't think me impertinent,
my dear ; but — but "

" I should never think anything you said or did
impertinent," said Patricia, smiling.

' You know " began Mrs. Hamilton, and

then broke off.

" Anyone would think you were thoroughly
afraid of me," said Patricia with a smile.

' I don't like interfering," said Mrs. Hamilton,
" but I am very worried."

She looked so pathetic in her anxiety that
Patricia bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

" You dear little thing," she cried, " tell me
what is on your mind, and I will do the best I can
to help you."

234 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" I am very — er — worried about you, my dear,"
began Mrs. Hamilton hesitatingly. " You are
looking so pale and tired and worn. I — I fear you

have something on your mind and — and " she

broke off, words failing her.

"It's the summer/' replied Patricia, smiling.
" I always find the hot weather trying, more trying
even than Mr. Bolton's jokes," she smiled.

" Are you — are you sure it's nothing else ? " said
Mrs. Hamilton.

" Quite sure," said Patricia. " What else should
it be ? " She was conscious of her reddening
cheeks.

" You ought to go out more," said Mrs. Hamil-
ton gently. " After sitting indoors all day you
want fresh air and exercise."

And with that Mrs. Hamilton had to rest con-
tent.

Patricia could not explain the absurd feeling she
experienced that she might miss something if she
left the house. It was all so vague, so intangible.
All she was conscious of was some hidden force
that seemed to bind her to the house, or, when by
an effort of will she broke from its influence,
seemed to draw her back again. She could not
analyse the feeling, she was only conscious of its
existence.

From Miss Brent she had received a character-
istic reply to her letter.

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 235

" DEAR PATRICIA," she wrote,

" I have read with pain and surprise your
letter. What your poor dear father would have
thought I cannot conceive.

" What I did was done from the best motives,
as I felt you were compromising yourself by
a secret engagement.

" I am sorry to find that you have become
exceedingly self-willed of late, and I fear
London has done you no good.

" As your sole surviving relative, it is my duty
to look after your welfare. This I promised
your dear father on his death-bed.

"Gratitude I do not ask, nor do I expect it;
but I am determined to do my duty by my
brother's child. I cannot but deplore the tone
in which you last wrote to me, and also the
rather foolish threat that your letter contained.
'Your affectionate aunt,

"ADELAIDE BRENT.

" P.S. — I shall make a point of coming up to
London soon. Even your rudeness will not
prevent me from doing my duty by my brother's
child.— A. B."

As she tore up the letter, Patricia remembered
her father once saying, " Your aunt's sense of
duty is the most offensive sense I have ever
encountered."

One day as Patricia was endeavouring to sort
out into some sort of coherence a sheaf of notes

236 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
that Mr. Bonsor had made upon Botulism, Mr.
Triggs entered the library. After his cheery " How
goes it, me dear ? " he stood for some moments
gazing down at her solicitously.

' You ain't lookin' well, me dear," he said with
conviction.

" That's a sure way to a woman's heart," replied
Patricia gaily.

" 'Ow's that, me dear ? " he questioned.

' Why, telling her that she's looking plain,"
retorted Patricia.

Mr. Triggs protested.

" All I want is a holiday," went on Patricia
" There are only three weeks to wait anc
then "

There was, however, no joy of anticipation ii
her voice.

" You're frettin' ! "

Patricia turned angrily upon Mr. Triggs.

" Fretting ! What on earth do you mean, Mr
Triggs ? " she demanded.

Mr. Triggs sat down suddenly, overwhelmed ty
Patricia's indignation.

" Don't be cross with me, me dear." Mr. Trigg
looked so like a child fearing rebuke that she wa
forced to smile.

" You must not say absurd things then," sh
retorted. " What have I got to fret about ? "

Mr. Triggs quailed beneath her challengin
glance. " I — I'm sorry, me dear," he said con
tritely.

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 237

" Don't be sorry, Mr. Triggs," said Patricia
jieverely ; "be accurate."

" I'm sorry, me dear," repeated Mr. Triggs.

" But that doesn't answer my question,"
[Patricia persisted. " What have I to fret about ? "

Mr. Triggs mopped his brow vigorously. He
invariably expressed his emotions with his hand-
icerchief. He used it strategically, tactically,
lefensively, continuously. It was to him what
:he lines of Torres Vedras were to Wellington.
rle retired behind its sheltering folds, to emerge
i moment later, his forces reorganised and re-
irrayed. When at a loss what to say or do, it was
,iis handkerchief upon which he fell back ; if he
•equired time in which to think, he did it behind
ts ample and protecting folds.

' You see, me dear," said Mr. Triggs at length,
ivoiding Patricia's relentless gaze, as he proceeded
:o stuff away the handkerchief in his tail pocket.

1 You see, me dear " Again he paused.

' You see, me dear," he began for a third time,
' I thought you was frettin' over your work or
something, when you ought to be enjoyin' your-
self," he lied.

Patricia looked at him, her conscience smiting
ler. She smiled involuntarily.

" I never fret about anything except when you
ion't come to see me," she said gaily.

Mr. Triggs beamed with good-humour, his fears
low quite dispelled.

" You're run down, me dear," he said with

238 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
decision. " You want an 'oliday. I must speak
to A. B. about it."

" If you do I shall be very angry," said Patricia ;
" Mr. Bonsor is always very kind and considerate."

" It — it isn't " began Mr. Triggs, then

paused.

" It isn't what ? " Patricia smiled at his look
of concern.

" If — if it is," began Mr. Triggs. Again he
paused, then added with a gulp, " Couldn't I lenT
you some ? "

For a moment Patricia failed to follow the
drift of his remark, then when she appreciated
that he was offering to lend her money she flushed.
For a moment she did not reply, then seeing the
anxiety stamped upon his kindly face, she said
with great deliberation :

" I think you must be quite the nicest man in
all the world. If ever I decide to borrow money
I'll come to you first."

Mr. Triggs blushed like a schoolboy. He had
fully anticipated being snubbed. He had found
from experience that Patricia had of late become
very uncertain in her moods.

They were interrupted by the entrance of Mr.
Bonsor.

" 'Ere, A. B. ! " cried Mr. Triggs " What dv
you mean by it ? "

" Mean by what ? " enquired Mi. Bonsor busy
with an imaginary speech upon street noises,
suggested by a barrel-piano in the distance.

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 239

" You're working 'er too 'ard, A. B./' said

. Triggs with conviction.
Working who too hard ? " Mr. Bonsor looked

plessly at Patricia. He was always at a dis-

vantage with his father-in-law, whose blunt-
ess of speech seemed to demoralise him.

Mr. Triggs thinks that you are slowly killing

e," laughed Patricia.

Mr. Bonsor looked uncertainly at Patricia, and
Ir. Triggs gazed at Mr. Bonsor. He had no
ery high opinion of his daughter's husband.

Well, mind you don't overwork 'er," said Mr.
riggs as he rose to go. A few minutes later
atricia was deep in the absorbing subject of the

e history of the potato-beetle.
Ugh ! " she cried as the clock in the hall

imed five. " I hate beetles, and," she paused

moment to tuck away a stray strand of hair,
1 1 never want to see a potato as lorg as I live."

That evening when she reached Galvin House
he went to her room, and there subjected herself
o a searching examination in the looking-glass,
ihe was forced to confess to the paleness of her

ce and dark marks beneatn her eyes. She ex-
lained them by summer in London, coupled

ith the dreariness of Arthur Bonsor, M.P., and
is mania for statistics.

You're human yeast, Patricia ! " she rmiF-
nared to her reflection ; "at least you're paid
wo-and-a-half guineas a week to try to leaven
he unleavenable, and you musn t complain if

240 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
sometimes you get a little tired. Fretting ! "
There was indignation in her voice. " What have
you got to fret about ? "

With the passage of each day, however, she
grew more listless and weary. She came to dread
meal-times, with their irritating chatter and un-
inspiring array of faces that she had come almost
to dislike. She was conscious of whisperings and
significant looks among her fellow-boarders. She
resented even Gustave's cow-like gaze of sym-
pathetic anxiety as she declined the food he
offered her.

Lady Tanagra and Mr. Triggs never asked her
out. Everybody seemed suddenly to have
deserted her. Sometimes she would catch a
glimpse of them in the Park on Sunday morning
Once she saw Bowen ; but he did not see her.
" The daily round and common task " took on a
new and sinister meaning for her. Sometimes her
thoughts would travel on a few years into the
future. What did it hold for her ? Instinctively
she shuddered at the loneliness of it all.

One afternoon on her return to Galvin House,
Gustave opened the door. He had evidently
been on the watch. His kindly face was beaming
with goodwill.

" Oh, mees ! ' he cried. " Mees Brent is here. '

" Aunt Adelaide I >J cried Patricia, her heart
sinking. Then seeing the comical look of inde
cision upon Gustave's face caused by her despair
ing exclamation she laughed.

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 241

When she entered the lounge, it was to find
Miss Brent sitting upright upon the stiffest chair
in the middle of the room. Miss Wangle and Mrs.
iMosscrop-Smythe were seated together in the
extreme corner, Mrs. Barnes and two or three
others were grouped by the window. The atmo-
sphere was tense. Something had apparently
happened. Patricia learned that from the grim
set of Miss Brent's mouth.

" I want to talk to you, Patricia," Miss Brent
announced after the customary greeting.

1 Yes, Aunt Adelaide/' said Patricia, sinking
into a chair with a sigh of resignation.

" Somewhere private," said Miss Brent.

' There is no privacy at Galvin House," mur-
mured Patricia, " except in the bathroom."

' Patricia, don't be indelicate," snapped Miss
Brent.

" I'm not indelicate, Aunt Adelaide, I'm merely
being accurate," said Patricia wearily.

" Cannot we go to your room ? " enquired Miss
Brent.

" Impossible ! " announced Patricia. " It's like
an oven by now. The sun is on it all the after-
noon. Besides," continued Patricia, " my affairs
are public property here. We are quite a com-
mune. We have everything in common — ex-
cept our toothbrushes," she added as an after;
thought.

14 Well ! Let us get over there."

Miss Brent rose and made for the corner

242 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

farthest from Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-
Smythe. Patricia followed her wearily.

" I've just snubbed those two women/' an-
nounced Miss Brent, as she seated herself in a
basket-chair that squeaked protestingly.

' There were indications of electricity in the
air," remarked Patricia calmly.

" I want to have a serious talk with you,
Patricia," said Miss Brent in her best it's-my-
duty-cost-it-what-it-may manner.

" How can anyone be serious in this heat ? "
protested Patricia.

" I owe it to your poor dear father to "

" This debtor and creditor business is killing
romance," murmured Patricia.

" I have your welfare to consider," proceeded
Miss Brent. " I "

" Don't you think you've done enough mischief
already, Aunt Adelaide ? " enquired Patricia
coolly.

" Mischief ! I ? " exclaimed Miss Brent in
astonishment.

Patricia nodded.

" As your sole surviving relative it is my
duty "

11 Don't you think," interrupted Patricia, " that
just for once you could neglect your duty ? Sin is
wonderfully exhilarating."

" Patricia ! " almost shrieked Miss Brent,
horror in her eyes. " Are you mad ? "

" No," replied Patricia, " only a little weary."

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 243

' You must have a tonic," announced Miss
Brent.

Patricia shuddered. She still remembered her
childish sufferings resulting from Miss Brent's
interpretation and application of The Doctor at
Home. She was convinced that she had swallowed
every remedy the book contained, and been
rubbed with every linament its pages revealed.

" No, Aunt Adelaide," she said evenly. " All
I require is that you should cease interfering in
my affairs."

" How dare you ! How " Miss Brent

paused wordless.

" I am prepared to accept you as an aunt,"
continued Patricia, outwardly calm; but almost
stifled by the pounding of her heart. " It is God's
will ; but if you persist in assuming the mantle
of Mrs. Grundy, combined with the Infallibility of
the Pope, then I must protest."

" Protest ! " repeated Miss Brent, repeating the
word as if not fully comprehending its meaning.

" If I am able to earn my own living, then I
am able to conduct my own love affairs."

" But " began Miss Brent.

" I am sorry to appear rude, Aunt Adelaide, but
it is much better to be frank. I am sure you mean
well ; but the fact of your being my sole surviving
relative places me at a disadvantage. If there
were two of you or three, you could quarrel about
me, and thus preserve the balance. Now let us
talk about something else."

244 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

For once in her life Miss Brent was nonplussed.
She regarded her niece as if she had been a two-
tailed giraffe, or a double-headed mastodon. Had
she been American she would have known it to
be brain-storm ; as it was she decided that Patricia
was sickening for some serious illness that had
produced a temperature.

In all her experience of " the Family " never
once had Miss Brent been openly defied in this
way, and she had no reserves upon which to fall
back. She held personal opinion and inclination
must always take secondary place to " the
Family." The individual must be sacrificed to
the group, provided the individual were not her-
self. Births, deaths, marriages, christenings,
funerals, weddings, were solemn functions that
must be regarded as involving not the principals
themselves so much as their relatives. Her
doctrine was, although she would not have ex-
pressed it so philosophically, that the individual
is mortal ; but the family is immortal.

That anyone lived for himself or herself never
seemed to occur to Miss Brent. If their actions
were acceptable to the family and at the same
time pleased the principals, then so much the
better for the principals ; if, on the other hand,
the family disapproved, then the duty of the
principals was clear.

This open flouting of her prides and her preju-
dices was to Miss Brent a great blow. It seemed
to stun her. She was at a loss how to proceed ;

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY 245

all she realised was that she must save " the
Family " at any cost.

" Now tell me what happened when you came
in," said Patricia sweetly.

" I must be going," said Miss Brent solemnly.

" Must you ? " enquired Patricia politely ; but
rising lest her aunt should change her mind.

" Now remember," said Patricia as they walked
along the hall, " you've lost me one matrimonial
fish. If I get another nibble you must keep out
of "

But Miss Brent had fled.

" Well, that's that ! " sighed Patricia as she
walked slowly upstairs.

CHAPTER XVII

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND

ONE Sunday morning as Patricia was sit-
ting in the Park watching the promenaders
and feeling very lonely, she saw coming
across the grass towards her Godfrey Elton
accompanied by a pretty dark girl in an amber
costume and a black hat. She bowed her acknow-
ledgment of Elton's salute, and watched the pair
as they passed on in the direction of Marble Arch.

Suddenly the girl stopped and turned. For
a moment Elton stood irresolute, then he also
turned and they both walked in Patricia's direc-
tion.

" Lady Peggy insisted that we should break
in upon your solitude," said Elton, having intro-
duced the two girls.

"You will forgive me, won't you?" said Lady
Peggy, " but I so wanted to know you. You
see Peter has the reputation of being invulnerable.
We're all quite breathless from our fruitless
endeavours to entangle him, and I wanted to see
what you were like."

" I'm afraid you'll find I'm quite common-
place," said Patricia, smiling. It was impossible

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND 247
:o be annoyed with Lady Peggy. Her frank-
icss was disarming, and her curiosity that of a

" I always say," bubbled Lady Peggy, " that
there are only two men in London worth marry-
jig, and they neither of them will have me,
ilthough I've worked most terribly hard."

' Who are they ? " enquired Patricia.

" Oh ! Goddy's one," she said, indicating Elton
with a nod, " and Peter's the other. They are
both prepared to be brothers to me ; but they're
not sufficiently generous to save me from dying
an old maid."

' I must apologise for inflicting Peggy upon
you, Miss Brent," said Elton ; " but when you
get to know her you may even like her."

"I'm not going to wait until I know her," said
Patricia.

' Bravo ! " cried Lady Peggy, clapping her
hands. ' That's a snub for you, Goddy," she
said, then turning again to Patricia, " I know we're
going to be friends, and you can afford to be
generous to a defeated rival."

" I must warn you against Lady Peggy," said
Elton quietly. " She's a most dangerous young
woman."

" And now, Patricia," said Lady Peggy, " I'm
going to call you Patricia, and you must call me
Peggy- I want you to do me a very great
favour."

Patricia looked at the girl, rather bewildered

248 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
and breathless by the precipitancy with which she
made friends. " I'm sure I will if I possibly can,"
she replied.

" I want you to come and lunch with us," said
Lady Peggy.

" It's very kind of you, I shall be delighted
some day," replied Patricia conventionally.

" No, now ! " said Lady Peggy. " This very day
that ever isc I want you to meet Daddy. He's
such a dear. Goddy will come, so you won't be
lonely," she added.

" I'm afraid I've got " began Patricia.

" Please don't be afraid you've got anything,"
pleaded Lady Peggy. " If you've got an engage-
ment throw it over. Everybody throws over
engagements for me."

" But " began Patricia.

" Oh, please don't be tiresome," said Lady
Peggy, screwing up her eyebrows. " I shall have
all I can do to persuade Goddy to come, and it's
so exhausting."

" I will come with pleasure," said Elton, " if
only to protect Miss Brent from your overwhelm-
ing friendliness."

" Oh, you odious creature ! " cried Lady Peggy,
then turning to Patricia she added with mock
tragedy in her voice, " Oh ! the love I've lan-
guished on that man, the gladness of the eyes I
have turned upon him, the pressures of the hand
I've been willing to bestow on him, and this is
how he treats me " Then with a sudden change

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND 249
• he added, " But you will come, won't you ? I
lo so want you to meet Daddy."

" If the truth must be told," said Elton,
I * Peggy merely wants to be able to exploit you,
Is everybody is wanting to know about you and
vhat you are like. Now she will be a celebrity,
md able to describe you in detail to all her many
nen friends and to her women enemies."

Lady Peggy deliberately turned her back upon
aton.

" Now we are going to have another little walk
ind then we'll go and get our nosebags on," she
innounced. " No, you're not going to walk
Between us" — this to Elton — " I want to be next
:o Patricia," she announced.

Patricia felt bewildered by the suddenness with
.vhich Lady Peggy had descended upon her. She
scarcely listened to the flow of small talk she kept
jp. She was conscious that Elton's hand was
:onstantly at the salute, and that Lady Peggy
seemed to be indulging in a series of continuous
bows.

" Oh ! do let's get away somewhere," cried
Lady Peggy at length. " My neck aches, and I
feel my mouth will set in a silly grin. Why on
earth do we know so many people, Goddy ? Do
you know," she added mischievously, " I'd love
to have a big megaphone and stand on a chair
and cry out who you are. Then everybody would
flock round, because they all want to know who it
is that has captured Peter the Hermit, as we call

«50 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
him." She looked at Patricia appraisingly.
think I can understand now/' she said.

" Understand what ? " said Patricia.

" What it is in you that attracts Peter."

Patricia gasped. " Really," she began.

" Yes, we girls have all been trying to make
love to Peter and fuss over him, whereas you woulc*
rather snub him, and that's very good for Peter
It's just the sort of thing that would attrac
him." Then with another sudden change sh<
turned to Elton and said, " Goddy, in future I'D
going to snub you, then perhaps you'll love me.'

Patricia laughed outright. She felt strong!]
drawn to this inconsequent child-girl. She foun<
herself wondering what would be the impressioi
she would create upon the Galvin House coterie
who would find all their social and moral virtue
inverted by such directness of speech. She couli
see Miss Wangle's internal struggle, disapprova
of Lady Peggy's personality mingling with respec
for her rank.

" Oh, there's Tan ! " Lady Peggy broke in upo:
Patricia's thoughts " Goddy, call to her, shoul
wave your hat. Haven't you got a whistle ? "

But Lady Tanagra had seen the party, an
was coming towards them accompanied by Mi
Triggs.

Lady Peggy danced towards Lady Tanagn
" Oh, Tan, I've found her ! " she cried, nodding t
Mr. Triggs, whom she appeared to know.

"Found whom?" enquired Lady Tanagra.

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND 251

" Patricia. The captor of St. Anthony, and
re're going to be friends, and she's coming to
inch with me to meet Daddy, and Goddy's
oming too, so don't you dare to carry him off.
)h, Mr. Triggs ! isn't it a lovely day," she cried,
urning to Mr. Triggs, who, hat in hand, was
lopping his brow.

" Beautiful, me dear, beautiful," he exclaimed,
earning upon her and turning to shake hands
nth Patricia. " Well, me dear, how goes it ? "
ie enquired. Then looking at her keenly he added,

Why, you're looking much better."

Patricia smiled, conscious that the improve-
lent in her looks was not a little due to Lady
'eggy and her bright chatter.

' You've become such a gad-about, Mr. Triggs,
hat you forget poor me," she said.

" Oh no, he doesn't ! " broke in Lady Peggy,
: he's always talking about you. Whenever I try
o make love to him he always drags you in. I've
eally come to hate you, Patricia, because you
eem to come between me and all my love affairs.
)h ! I wish we could find Peter," cried Lady
Jeggy suddenly, " that would complete the
>arty."

Patricia hoped fervently that they would not
ome across Bowen. She saw that it would makr
he situation extremely awkward.

" And now we must dash off for lunch," cried
^ady Peggy, " or we shall be late and Daddy will
>e cross." She shook hands with Mr. Triggs blew

252 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
a kiss at Lady Tanagra and, before Patricia knev
it, she was walking with Lady Peggy and Eltoi
in the direction of Curzon Street.

Patricia was in some awe of meeting the Duki
of Gayton. Hitherto she had encountered onl]
the smaller political fry, friends and acquaintance
of Mr. Bonsor, who had always treated her as ;
secretary. The Duke had been in the first Coali
tion Ministry, but had been forced to retire o:
account of a serious illness.

" Look whom I've caught ! " cried Lady Pegg
as she bubbled into the dining-room, where som
twelve or fourteen guests were in process of sea1
ing themselves at the table. " Look whom I'\
caught ! Daddy," she addressed herself to a sma
clean-shaven man, with beetling eyebrows and
broad, intellectual head. " It's the captor if
Peter the Hermit."

The Duke smiled and shook hands wil
Patricia.

" You must come and sit by me," he said in
particularly sweet and well-modulated voic
which seemed to give the lie to the somewhat ste
and searching appearance oi his eyes. " Peter
a great friend of mine."

Patricia was conscious of flushed cheeks as s
took her seat next to the Duke. Later she d
covered that these Sunday luncheons were alwa
strictly informal, no order of precedence bei
observed. Young and old were invited grave a
gay. The talk was sometimes frivolous, son

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND 253
tmes serious. Sunday was, in the Duke's eyes,
; day of rest, and conversation must follow the
jath of least resistance.

i Whilst the other guests were seating themselves,
fatricia looked round the table with interest. She
fecognised a well-known Cabinet Minister and a
ishop. Next to her on the other side was a man
dth hungry, searching eyes, whose fair hair was
topped so closely to his head as to be almost
ivisible. Later she learned that he was a Serbian
atriot, who had prepared a wonderful map of
ifew Serbia, which he always carried with him.
Iton had described it as " the map that passeth
ill understanding."

I It embraced Bulgaria, Roumania, Transyl-
ania, Montenegro, Greece, Albania, Bessarabia,
nd portions of other countries.

" It's a sort of game," Lady Peggy explained
iter. " If you can escape without his having
reduced his map, then you've won," she added.

At first the Duke devoted himself to Patricia,
bviously with the object of placing her at her
ase. She was fascinated by his voice. He had
:ie reputation of being a brilliant talker ; but
'atricia decided that even if he had possessed the
lost commonplace ideas, he would have invested
iem with a peculiar interest on account of the
msical tones in which he expressed them. He
ras a man of remarkable dignity of bearing, and
'atricia decided that she would be able to feel very
mch a*r-3'<i of him.

254 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

In answer to a question Patricia explained thai
she had only met Lady Peggy that morning.

" And what do you think of Peggy's whirlwind
methods ? " asked the Duke with a smile.

" I think they are quite irresistible," repliec
Patricia.

"She makes friends quicker than anyone I evei
met and keeps them longer," said the Duke.

Presently the conversation turned on the ques
tion of the re-afforestation of Great Britain
springing out of a remark made by the Cabine
Minister to the Duke. Soon the two, aided by !
number of other guests, were deep in the intricacie
of politics. During a lull in the conversation th<
Duke turned to Patricia.

" I am afraid this is all very dull for you, Mis
Brent," he remarked pleasantly.

" On the contrary/' said Patricia, " I ac
greatly interested."

" Interested in politics ? " questioned the Duke
with a tinge of surprise in his voice.

Gradually Patricia found herself drawn into th
conversation. For the first time in her life sh
found her study of Blue Books and her knowledg
of statistics of advantage and use. The Cabine
Minister leaned forward with interest. The othe
guests had ceased their local conversation t
listen to what it was that was so clearly inter
esting their host and the Cabinet Minister I
Patricia's remarks there was the freshness c
unconvention. The old political war-horses sa1

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND 255
jow things appeared to an intelligent contem-
prary who was not trammelled by tradition and
jarliamentary procedure.

Suddenly Patricia became aware that she had
lonopolised the conversation and that every-
ne was listening to her. She flushed and
j:opped.

" Please go on," said the Cabinet Minister ;
'don't stop, it's most interesting."

But Patricia had become self-conscious. How-
</er, the Duke with great tact picked up the
nread, and soon the conversation became general.

As they rose from the table the Duke whispered
i) Patricia, " Don't hurry away, please, I want
i) have a chat with you after the others have
pne."

As they went to the drawing-room, Lady Peggy
<ime up to Patricia and Linking her arm in hers,
aid :

'I'm dreadfully afraid of you now, Patricia.
'Why everybody was positively drinking in
pur words. Wherever did you learn so much ? "
' You cannot be secretary to a rising poli-
Ician," said Patricia with a smile, " without
Earning a lot of statistics. I have to read up
<1 sorts of things about pigs and babies and beet-
i>ot and street-noises and all sorts of objectionable
uings.'' ^

' What do you think of her, Goddy ? " cried
.ady Peggy to Elton as he joined them.

" I'm afraid she has made me feel very

256 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
ignorant," replied Elton. " Just as you, Peggy,
always make me feel very wise."

In the drawing-room the Serbian attached him-
self to Patricia and produced his " map of oblitera-
tion," as the Duke had once called it, explaining
to her at great length how nearly all the towns
and cities in Europe were for the most part popu-
lated by Serbs.

It was obvious to her, from the respect with
which she was treated, that her remarks at
luncheon had made a great impression.

When most of the other guests had departed,
the Duke walked over to her, and dismissing
Peggy, entered into a long conversation on political
and parliamentary matters. He was finally inter-
rupted by Lady Peggy.

" Look here, Daddy, if you steal my friends ]

shall " she paused, then turning to Elton sh<

said, " What shall I do, Goddy ? "

" Well, you might marry and leave him,'
suggested Elton helpfully.

" That's it. I will marry and leave you al
alone, Daddy."

" Cannot we agree to share Miss Brent ? '
suggested the Duke, smiling at Patricia.

" Isn't he a dear ? " enquired Lady Peggy o
Patricia. '' When other men propose to me, an<
quite a lot have," she added with almost childisl
simplicity, "I always mentally compare then
with Daddy, and then of course I know I don'
want them."

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND 257
That is my one reason, Peggy, for not pro-
posing," said Elton. " I could never enter the
ists with the Duke."

You're a pair of ridiculous children," laughed
e Duke.

In response to a murmur from Patricia that she
ust be going, Lady Peggy insisted that she
.ould first come upstairs and see her den.
The " den " was a room of orderly disorder,
hich seemed to possess the freshness and charm
»f its owner. Lady Peggy looked at Patricia, a
lew respect in her eyes.

You must be frightfully clever," she said with
ccustomed seriousness. " I wish I were like
t. You see I should be more of a companion
o Daddy if I were."

I think you are an ideal companion for him
you are," said Patricia.

Oh ! he's so wonderful," said Lady Peggy
eamily. ' You know I'm not always such a fool
I appear," she added quite seriously, " and I
o sometimes think of other things than frills and
>unces and chocolates." Then with a sudden
hange of mood she cried, " Wasn't it clever of
ne capturing you to-day ? As soon as you're
;one Daddy will tell me what he thinks of you,
.nd I shall feel so self-important."

As Patricia looked about the room, charmed
viih its dainty freshness, her eyes lighted upon
. large metal tea-tray. Ladv ^eggv following her
;aze cried :

258 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Oh, the magic carpet ! "

" The what ? " enquired Patricia.

" That's the magic carpet. Come, I'll shot
you/' and seizing it she preceded Patricia to th«
top of the stairs. " Now sit on it," she cried, " am
toboggan down. It's priceless."

" But I couldn't."

" Yes you could. Everybody does," crie«
Lady Peggy.

Not quite knowing what she was doing Patrici
found herself forced down upon the tea-tray, an
the next thing she knew was she was speedin
down the stairs at a terrific rate.

Just as she arrived in the hall with flushe
cheeks and a flurry of skirts, the door of the librar
opened and the Duke and Elton came out.

Patricia gathered herself together, and wit
flaming cheeks and downcast eyes stood like
child expecting rebuke, instead of which the Duk
merely smiled. Turning to Elton he remarked:

"So Miss Brent has received her birth certif
cate."

As he spoke the butler with sedate decorui
picked up the tray and carried it into his pantr
as if it were the most ordinary thing in the worl
for guests to toboggan down the front staircase

" To ride on Peggy's ' magic carpet,' as she cal
it," said the Duke, "is to be admitted to tl
household as a friend. Come again soon," 1.
added as he shook hands in parting. "AnySu:
day at lunch you are always sure to catch us. V

LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND 259
never give special invitations to the friends we
want, do we, Peggy ? and I want to have some
more talks with you."

As Patricia and Elton walked towards the Park
he explained that Lady Peggy's tea-tray had
figured in many little comedies. Bishops, Cabinet
Ministers, great generals and admirals had all
descended the stairs in the way Patricia had.

" In fact," he added, " when the Duke was in
the Cabinet, it was the youngest and brightest
:ollection of Ministers in the history of the country.
Every one of them was devoted to Peggy, and I
think they would have made war or peace at her
command."

When Patricia arrived at Galvin House, she was
:onscious of the world having changed since the
morning. All her gloom had been dispelled, the
drawn look had passed from her face, and she felt
that a heavy weight had been lifted from her
shoulders.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE AIR RAID

' iy /f ISS BRENT, please get up. There's an

V/l air raid."

-** -*" Mechanically Patricia sat up in bed
and listened. Outside a police- whistle was droning
its raucous warning ; within there was the sound
of frightened whispers and the noise of the opening
and shutting of doors. Suddenly there was a
shriek, followed by a low murmur of several
voices. The sound of the police-whistle con-
tinued, gradually dying away in the distance, and
the noises within the house ceased.

Patricia strained her ears to catch the firsl
sound of the defensive guns. She had no inten-
tion of getting up for a false alarm. For som(
minutes there was silence, then came a slight mur
mur, half sob, half sigh, as if London were breath
ing heavily in her sleep, another followed, thei
half a dozen in quick succession growing loude:
with every report. Suddenly came the scream o
a " whiz-bang " and the thunder of a large gun
Soon the orchestra was in full swing.

Still Patricia listened. She was fascinated
Why did guns sound exactly as if large plank

360

THE AIR RAID 261

were being dropped ? Why did the report seem
as if something were bouncing ? Suddenly a
terrific report, a sound as if a giant plank had been
dropped and had " bounced." A neighbouring
gun had given tongue, another followed.

She jumped out of bed and proceeded to pull
on her stockings. There was a gentle tapping at
her door, not the peremptory summons that had
awakened her and which, by the voice that had
accompanied it, she recognised as that of Mrs.
Craske-Morton.

" What is it ? " she called out.

" It's me, mees." Patricia could scarcely
recognise in the terrified accents the voice of
Gustave. " It's a raid. Oh ! mees, please come
down."

" All right, Gustave. I shall be down in a
minute," replied Patricia, and she heard a flurry
of retreating footsteps. Gustave was descending
to safety. There was about him nothing of the
Roman sentry.

Patricia proceeded with her toilette, hastened,
in spite of herself, by a tremendous crash which
she recognised as a bomb.

At Galvin House " Raid Instructions " had
been posted in each room. Guests were instructed
to hasten with all possible speed downstairs to the
basement-kitchen, where tea and coffee would be
served and, if necessary, bandages and first-aid
applied. Miss Sikkum had made a superficial
study of Red Cross work from a shilling manual

262 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
but as, according to her own confession, she
fainted at the sight of blood, no very great reliance
was placed in her ministrations.

As Patricia entered the kitchen her first inclina-
tion was to laugh at the amazing variety, not only
Df toilettes, but of expressions that met her eyes.
Self-confident in the knowledge that she was fully
dressed, she looked about her with interest.

" Oh, here you are, Miss Brent ! " exclaimed
Mrs. Craske-Morton, who was busily engaged in
preparing the tea and coffee of the " Raid Instruc-
tions." " Gustave would insist on going up to

call you a second time. We were " Mrs.

Craske-Morton broke off her sentence and dashed
for the gas-stove, where the milk was boiling over.

" Oh, mees ! " Patricia turned to Gustave. She
bit her lip fiercely to restrain the laugh that
bubbled up at the sight of the major-domo of
Galvin House.

Above a pair of black trousers, tucked in the
tops of unlaced boots, and from which the braces
flapped aimlessly, was visible the upper part of a
red flannel night-shirt. The remainder was be-
stowed beneath the upper part of the trousers,
giving to his figure a curiously knobbly appear-
ance. His face was leaden-coloured and his
upstanding hair more erect than ever, whilst in
his eyes was Fear.

He was trembling in every limb, and his jaw
shook as he uttered his expression of relief at the
iight of Patricia. She smiled at him, then sud-

THE AIR RAID 263

denly remembering that, in spite of his terror, he
had voluntarily gone up to the top of the house to
call her, she felt something strangely uncomfort-
able at the back of her throat.

" Come along, Gustave ! " she cried brightly.
11 Let us help get the tea. I'm so thirsty."

From that moment Gustave appeared to take
himself in hand, and save for a violent start, at
the more vigorous reports, seemed to have over-
come his terror.

As Patricia proceeded to assist Mrs. Craske-
Morton, a veritable heroine in a pink flannel
wrapper, she took stock of her fellows. Miss
Wangle was engaged in prayer and tears, her wig
was awry, her face drawn and yellow and her
clothes the garb of advanced maidenhood. On
her feet were bed -socks, half thrust into felt
slippers. From beneath a black quilted dressing-
gown peeped with virtuous pride the longcloth of
a nightdress of Victorian severity.

Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe was in curl-papers and
a faded blue kimono that allowed no suggestion
to escape of the form beneath. Miss Sikkum had
seized a grey raincoat, above which a forest of
curl papers looked strangely out of place. Her
fingers moved restlessly. The two top buttons of
the raincoat were missing, displaying a wealth of
blue ribbon and openwork that none had sus-
pected in her. The lateness at which the ribbon
and openwork began gave an interesting demon-
stration in feminine bone structure.

264 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

Mr. Sefton was splendid in a purple dressing-
gown with orange cord and tassels, and red and
white striped pyjamas beneath. Mr. Sefton had
chosen his raid-costume with elaborate care ; but
the suddenness of the alarm had not allowed of
the arrangement of his hair, most of which hung
down behind in a sandy cascade. His manner was
the forced heroic. He was smoking a cigarette
with a too obvious nonchalance to deceive. The
heroes of Mr. Sefton's imagination always lit
cigarettes when facing death. They were of the
type that seizes a revolver when the ship is sink-
ing and, with one foot placed negligently upon the
capstan (Mr. Sefton had not the most remote idea
of what a capstan was like) shouted, " Women
and children first."

He walked about the kitchen with what he
meant to be a smile upon his pale lips. The
cigarette he found a nuisance. If he held it
between his lips the smoke got in his eyes and
made them stream with water ; if, on the other
hand, he held it between his fingers, it emphasized
the shaking of his hand. He compromised by
letting it go out between his lips, arguing that the
effect was the same.

Mr. Bolton had donned his fez and velvet
smoking- jacket above creased white pyjama
trousers that refused to meet the tops of his felt
slippers. Mr. Bolton continued to make " jokes,"
for the same reason that Mr. Sefton smoked a
cigarette.

THE AIR RAID 265

Mr. Cordal was negative in a big ulster with a
hem of nightshirt beneath, leaving about eight
inches of fleshless shin before his carpet slippers
with the fur-tops were reached. He sat gazing
with unseeing eyes at the cook huddled up oppo-
site, moaning as she held her heart with a fat,
dirty hand.

Mrs. Barnes, the victim of indecision, had leapt
straight out of bed, gathered her clothes in her
arms and had flown to safety. She walked about
the kitchen aimlessly, dropping and retrieving
various garments, which she stuffed back again
into the bundle she carried under her arm.

Mrs. Craske-Morton was practical and courage-
ous. Her one thought was to prepare the promised
refreshments. Her staff, with the exception of
Gustave, was useless, and she was grateful to
Patricia for her assistance.

Outside pandemonium was raging, the noise of
the barrage was diabolical, the " bouncing " of
the heavy guns, the screams of the " whiz-bangs,"
the cackle of machine-guns from aeroplanes over-
head ; all seemed to tell of death and chaos.

Suddenly the puny sound of guns was drowned
in one gigantic uproar. For a moment the place
was plunged in darkness, then the electric light
shuddered into being again. The glass flew from
the windows, the house rocked as if uncertain
whether or no it should collapse. Miss Wangle
slipped on to her knees, her wig slipped on to her

ft ear.

266 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" Oh, my God ! " screamed the cook, as if to
ensure exclusive rights to the Deity's attention.

Jenny, the housemaid, entirely unconscious that
her nightdress was her sole garment, threw her-
self flat on her face. Mrs. Craske-Morton, who
was pouring out tea, let the teapot slip from her
hand, smashing the cup and pouring the contents
on to the table. Gustave's knees refused their
office and he sank down, grasping with both
hands the edge of the table. Mrs. Barnes dropped
her clothes without troubling to retrieve them.

Suddenly there was a terrifying scream outside,
then a motor-car drew up and the sound of men's
voices was heard.

Still the guns thundered. Patricia felt herself
trembling. For a moment a rush of blood seemed
to suffocate her, then she found herself gazing at
Miss Wangle, wondering whether she were praying
to God or to the bishop. She laughed in a voice
unrecognisable to herself. She looked about the
kitchen. Mr. Sefton had sunk down upon a chair,
the cigarette still attached to his bloodless lower
lip, his arms hanging limply down beside him.
Mr. Cordal was looking about him as if dazed,
whilst Mr. Bolton was gazing at the glassless
window-frames, as if expecting some apparition
to appear.

" It's a bomb next door," gasped Mrs. Craske-
Morton, then remembering her responsibilities,
she caught Patricia's eye. There was appeal in hei
glance.

THE AIR RAID 267

" Come along, Gustave," cried Patricia in a
voice that she still found it difficult to recognise
as her own.

Gustave, still on his knees, looked round and
up at her with the eyes of a dumb animal that
knows it is about to be tortured.

" Gustave, get up and help with the tea," said
Patricia.

A look of wonder crept into Gustave's eyes at the
unaccustomed tone of Patricia's voice. Slowly he
dragged himself up, as if testing the capacity of
each knee to support the weight of his body.

" There's brandy there," said Mrs. Craske-
Morton, pointing to a spirit-case she had brought
down with her. " Here's the key."

Patricia took the key from her trembling hand,
noting that her own was shaking violently.

" Mrs. Morton," she whispered, " you are
splendid."

Mrs. Morton smiled wanly, and Patricia felt
that in that moment she had got to know the
woman beneath the boarding-house keeper.

" Shall we put it in their tea ? " enquired Patricia,
holding the decanter of brandy.

Mrs. Craske-Morton nodded.

"Now, Gustave I" cried Patricia, "make every-
body drink tea."

Gustave looked at his own hands, and then down
at his knees as if in doubt as to whether he pos-
sessed the power of making them obey his wishes.

Miss Wangle was still on her knees, the cook was

268 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
appealing to the Almighty with tiresome reitera-
tion. Jenny had developed hysterics, and was
seated on the ground drumming with her heels
upon the floor, Miss Sikkum gazing at her as if
she had been some phenomenon from another
world. Mr. Bolton had valiantly pulled himself
together and was endeavouring to persuade Mrs.
Barnes to accept the various garments that he
was picking up from the floor. Her only acknow-
ledgment of his gallantry was to gaze at him with
dull, unseeing eyes, and to wag her head from side
to side as if in repudiation of the ownership of
what he was striving to get her to take from
him.

Mr. Sefton, valiant to the end, was with trem-
bling fingers endeavouring to extract a cigarette
from his case, apparently unconscious that one
was still attached to his lip. Mrs. Craske-Morton,
Patricia and Gustave set themselves to work to
pour tea and brandy down the throats of the
others. Mr. Sefton took his mechanically and put
it to his lips, oblivious of the cigarette that still
dangled there. Finding an obstruction he put up
his hand and pulled the cigarette away and with
it a portion of the skin of his lip. For the rest
of the evening he was dabbing his mouth with his
pocket-handkerchief.

Gustave had valiantly gone to the assistance of
Jenny, and was endeavouring to pour tea through
her closed teeth, with the result that it streamed
down the neck of her nightdress. The effect was

THE AIR RAID 269

the same, however. As she felt the hot fluid on
her chest she screamed, stopped drumming with
her heels and looked about the kitchen.

' You've scalded me, you beast ! " she cried,
i whereat Gustave, who was sitting on his heels,
started and fell backwards, bringing Miss Sikkum
down on top of him together with her cup of tea.

Mrs. Craske-Morton was ministering to Miss
Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe. Mr. Bolton
and Mr. Cordal were both drinking neat brandy
out of teacups.

Outside the guns still thundered and screamed

Patricia went to the assistance of the cook;
kneeling down she persuaded her to drink a cup
of tea and brandy, which had the effect of silencing
her appeals to the Almighty.

For an hour the " guests " of Galvin House
waited, exactly what for no one knew. Then the
noise of the firing began to die away in waves of
sound. There would be a few minutes' silence but
for the distant rumble of guns, then suddenly a
spurt of firing as if the guns were reluctant to
forget their former anger. Another period of
silence would follow, then two or three isolated
reports, like the snarl of dogs that had been
dragged from their prey. Finally quiet.

For a further half-hour Galvin House waited,
praying that the attack would not be renewed.
There were little spurts of conversation. Mr.
Sefton was slowly returning to the " foot on the
capstan " attitude, and actually had a cigarette

270 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
alight. Mr. Bolton and Mr. Cordal were specu
lating as to where the bomb had fallen. Mrs.
Craske-Morton was wondering if the Government
would pay promptly for the damage to her glass.

Outside there were sounds of life and movement,
cars were throbbing and passing to and fro, and
men's voices could be heard. Suddenly there was
a loud peal of the street-door bell. All looked at
each other in consternation. Gustave looked
about him as if he had lost a puppy. Mrs. Craske-
Morton looked at Gustave.

" Gustave ! " said Patricia, surprised at her
own calm.

Gustave looked at her for a moment then,
remembering his duties, went slowly to the door,
listening the while as if expecting a further bom-
bardment to break out. With the exception of
Miss Wangle and the cook, everybody was on the
qui vive of expectation.

" It's the police," suggested Mrs. Craske-Morton,
with conviction.

" Or the ambulance," ventured Miss Sikkum in
a trembling voice. " They're collecting the
dead," she added optimistically.

All eyes were riveted upon the kitchen door.
Steps were heard descending the stairs. A
moment later the door was thrown open and
Gustave in a voice strangely unlike his own
announced :

" 'Ees Lordship, madame."

Bowen entered the kitchen and cast a swift

THE AIR RAID 271

look about him. A light of relief passed over his
face as he saw Patricia. Some instinct that she
could neither explain nor control caused her to
go over to him, and before she knew what was
taking place both her hands were in his

" Thank God ! " he breathed. " I was afraid
it was this house. I heard a bomb had dropped
I here. Oh, my dear ! I've been in hell ! "

There was something in his voice that thrilled
I her as she had never been thrilled before. She
looked up at him smiling, then suddenly with a
great content she remembered that she had
I dressed herself with care.

Bowen looked about him, and seeing Mrs.
jCraske-Morton, went over and shook hands.

She's a regular heroine, Peter," said Patricia,
mconscious that she had used his name. " She's
>een so splendid."

Mrs. Craske-Morton smiled at Patricia, again
icr human smile

" Oh ! go away, make him go away ! " It was
trs. Mosscrop-Smythe who spoke. Her words
lad an electrifying effect upon everyone. Miss
Bangle sat up and made feverish endeavours to
straighten her wig Jenny, the housemaid, looked
round for cover that was nowhere available. The
:ook became aware of her lack of clothing. Miss
>ikkum strove to minimise the exhibition of
leminine bone-structure. Mrs. Barnes made a
live for Mr. Bolton, who was still holding various
>f her garments that he had retrieved. These she

272 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
seized from him as if he had been a pickpocket,
and thrust them under her arm.

" Oh, please go away ! " moaned the cook.

" Come upstairs," said Patricia as she led the
way out of the kitchen, to the relief of those whose
reawakened modesty saw in Bowen's presence an
outrage to decorum. Switching on the light in
the lounge, Patricia threw herself into a chair.
She was beginning to feel the reaction.

' Why did you come ? " she asked.

" I heard that a bomb had fallen in this street
and — well, I had to come. I was never in such a
funk in all my life."

" How did you get round here ; did you bring
the car ? "

" No, I couldn't get the car out, I walked it,"
said Bowen briefly.

" That was very sweet of you," said Patricia
gratefully, looking up at him in a way she had
never looked at him before. " And now I think
you must be going. We must all go to bed
again."

" Yes, the ' All Clear' will sound soon, I think,'
replied Bowen.

They moved out into the hall. For a moment
they stood looking at each other, then Bowen took
both her hands in his. " I am so glad, Patricia,"
he said, gazing into her eyes, then suddenly he
bent down and kissed her full on the lips.

Dropping her hands and without another word
he picked up his cap and let himself out, leaving

THE AIR RAID 273

Patricia standing gazing in front of her. For a
moment she stood, then turning as one in a dream,
walked slowly upstairs to her room.

" I wonder why I let him do that ? " she mur-
mured as she stood in front of the mirror un-
pinning her hair.

CHAPTER XIX

GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID

THE next day and for many days Galvin
House abandoned itself to the raid. The
air was full of rumours of the appalling
sSasualties resulting from the bomb that had
been dropped in the next street. No one knew
anything, everyone had heard something. The
horrors confided to each other by the residents at
Galvin House would have kept the Grand Guignol
in realism for a generation.

Silent herself, Patricia watched with interest
tne ferment around her. With the exception of
Mrs. Craske-Morton, all seemed to desire most of
all to emphasize their own attitude of splendid
intellectual calm during the raid. They spoke
scornfully of acquaintances who had flown from
London because of the danger from bomb-
dropping Gothas, they derided the Thames Valley
aliens, they talked heroically and patriotically
about " standing their bit of bombing." In
short Galvin House had become a harbour of
heroism.

Mrs. Craske-Morton, who had shown a calm-
ness and courage that none of the others seemed

274

GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID 275
to recognise, had nothing to say except about her
broken glass; on this subject, however, she was
eloquent. Miss Wangle managed to convey to those
who would listen that her own safety, and in fact
that of Galvin House, was directly due to the
intercession of the bishop, who when alive was
particularly noted for the power and sustained
eloquence of his prayers.

Mr. Bolton was frankly sceptical. If the august
prelate was out to save Galvin House, he sug-
gested, it wasn't quite cricket to let them drop
a bomb in the next street.

Everyone was extremely critical of everyone
else. Mr. Bolton said things about Mrs. Barnes
and her clothes that made Miss Sikkum blush,
particularly about the nose, where, with her,
emotion always first manifested itself. Mr. Sefton
had permanently returned to the " women and
children first " phase and, as two cigarettes were
missing from his case, he was convinced that he
had acquitted himself with that air of reckless
bravado that endeared a man to women. He
talked pityingly and tolerantly of Gustave's
obvious terror.

Mr. Bolton saw in the adventure material for
jokes for months to come. He laboured at the
subject with such misguided industry that
Patricia felt she almost hated him. Some of his
allusions, particularly to the state of sartorial
indecision in which the maids had sought cover,
were " not quite nice," as Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe

276 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
expressed it to Mrs. Hamilton, who returned from
a visit the day following.

At breakfast everyone had talked, and in conse-
quence everyone who worked was late for work;
the general opinion being, what was the use of a
raid unless you could be late for work ? Punctu-
ality on such occasions being regarded as the
waste of an opportunity, and a direct rebuke to
Providence who had placed it there.

Patricia did not take part in the general babel,
beyond pointing out, when Gustave was coming
under discussion, that it was he who had gone to
the top of the house to call her. She looked
meaningly at Mr. Bolton and Mr. Sefton, who had
the grace to appear a little ashamed of themselves.

When Patricia returned in the evening, she
found Lady Tanagra awaiting her in the lounge,
literally bombarded with different accounts of
what had happened — all narrated in the best
" eye-witness " manner of the alarmist press.
Following the precept of Charles Lamb, Galvin
House had apparently striven to correct the bad
impression made through lateness in beginning
work by leaving early.

It was obvious that Lady Tanagra had made
herself extremely popular. Everyone was striving
ko gain her ear for his or her story of personal
experiences.

" Ah, here you are ! " cried Lady Tanagra as
Patricia entered. " I hear you behaved like a
heroine last night."

GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID 277

Mrs. Craske-Morton nodded her head with
conviction.

" Mrs. Morton was the real heroine," said
Patricia. " She was splendid ! "

Mrs. Craske-Morton flushed. To be praised
before so distinguished a caller was almost
embarrassing, especially as no one had felt it
necessary to comment upon her share in the
evening's excitement.

" Come up with me while I take off my things,"
said Patricia, as she moved towards the door.
She saw that any private talk between herself
and Lady Tanagra would be impossible in the
lounge with Galvin House in its present state of
ferment.

In Patricia's room Lady Tanagra subsided into
a chair with a sigh. " I feel as if I were a celebrity
arriving at New York," she laughed.

" They're rather excited," smiled Patricia, " but
then we live such a humdrum life here — the ex-
pression is Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe's — and much
should be forgiven them. A book could be
written on the boarding-house mind, I think. It
moves in a vicious circle. If someone would only
break out and give the poor dears something to
talk about."

" Didn't you do that ? " enquired Lady Tanagra
slily.

Patricia smiled wearily. " I take second place
now to the raid. Think of living here for the next
few weeks. They will think raid, read raid, talk

278 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

raid and dream raid." She shuddered. " Thank

heavens I'm off to-morrow."

" Off to-morrow ? " Lady Tanagra raised her
eyes in interrogation.

" Yes, to Eastbourne for a fortnight's holiday
as provided for in the arrangement existing
between one Patricia Brent and Arthur Bonsor,
Esquire, M.P. It's part of the wages of the sin
of secretaryship." Patricia sighed.

" I hope you'll enjoy "

" Please don't be conventional," interrupted
Patricia. " I shall not enjoy it in the least.
Within twenty-four hours I shall long to be back
again. I shall get up in the morning and I shall
go to bed at night. In between I shall walk a bit,
read a bit, get my nose red (thank heavens it
doesn't peel) and become bored to extinction.
One thing I won't do, that is wear openwork
frocks. The sun shall not print cheap insertion
kisses upon Patricia Brent."

" You're quite sure that it is a holiday/' Lady
Tanagra looked up quizzically at Patricia as she
stood gazing out of the window.

" A holiday ! " repeated Patricia, looking round.

" It sounded just a little depressing," said Lady
Tanagra.

" It will be exactly what it sounds," Patricia
retorted ; " only depressing is not quite the right
word, it's too polite. You don't know what it is
to be lonely, Tanagra, and live at Galvin House,
and try to haul or push a politician into a rising

GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID 279
posture. It reminds me of Carlyle on the Dutch."
There was a note of fierce protest in her voice.
" You have all the things that I want, and I
wonder I don't scratch your face and tear your
hair out. We are all primitive in our instincts
really." Then she laughed. " Well ! I had to
cry out to someone, and I shall feel better. It's
rather a beastly world for some of us, you know ;
but I suppose I ought to be spanked for being
ungrateful."

" Do you know why I've come ? " enquired Lady
Tanagra, thinking it wise to change the subject.

Patiicia shook her head. " A more conceited
person might have suggested that it was to see
me," she said demurely.

' To apologise for Peter," said Lady Tanagra.
" He disobeyed orders and I am very angry with
him."

Patricia flushed at the memory of their good-
night. For a few seconds she stood silent, looking
out of the window.

" I think it was rather sweet of him," she said
without looking round.

Lady Tanagra smiled slightly. " Then I may
forgive him, you think ? " she enquired.

Patricia turned and looked ^t her. Lady
Tanagra met the gaze innocently.

" He wanted to write to you and send some
flowers and chocolates ; but I absolutely forbade
it. We almost had our first quarrel," she added
mendaciously.

280 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

For the space of a second Patricia hated
Lady Tanagra* She would have liked to turn and
rend her for interfering in a matter that could not
possibly be regarded as any concern of hers.
The feeling, however, was only momentary and,
when Lady Tanagra rose to go, Patricia was as
cordial as ever.

From Galvin House Lady Tanagra drove to the
Quadrant.

" Peter ! " she cried as she entered the room
and threw herself into an easy chair, " if ever I
again endeavour to divert true love from its
normal "

" How is she ? "' interrupted Bowen.

" Now you've spoiled it," cried Lady Tanagra,
" and it was "

" Spoiled what ? " demanded Bowen.

" My beautiful phrase about true love and its
normal channel, and I have been saying it over
to myself all the way from Galvin House." She
looked reproachfully at her brother.

" How's Patricia ? " demanded Bowen eagerly.

" Fair to moderately fair, rain later, I should
describe her," replied Lady Tanagra, helping her-
self to a cigarette which Bowen lighted. " She's
going away."

" Good heavens ! Where ? " cried Bowen.

" Eastbourne."

" When ? "

" To-morrow."

" Damn ! "

GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID 281

" My dear Peter," remarked Lady Tanagra
lllazily, "this primitive profanity ill becomes "

" Please don't rot me, Tan," he pleaded.
" I've had a rotten time lately."

There was helpless and hopeless pain in
Bowen's voice that caused Lady Tanagra to
spring up from her chair and go over to him.

" Carry on, old boy," she cried softly, as she
caressed his coat-sleeve. " It's your only chance.
You're going to win."

" I must see her ! " blurted out Bowen.

" If you do you'll spoil everything," announced
Lady Tanagra with conviction.

" But, last night," began Bowen and paused.

" Last night, I think," said Lady Tanagra,
" was a master-stroke. She is touched ; it's
taken us forward at least a week."

" But look here, Tan," said Bowen gloomily,

you told me to leave it all in your hands and you
make me treat her rottenly, then you say "

"That you know about as much of how to make
a woman like Patricia fall in love with you as an
ostricli does of geology," said Lady Tanagra
calmly.

" But what will she think ? " demanded Bowen.

" At present she is thinking that Eastbourne
will be a nightmare of loneliness."

" I'll run down and see her," announced
Bowen.

" If you do, Peter ! " There was a note of
warning in Lady Tanagra's voice.

282 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" All right," he conceded gloomily. "I'll gi
you another week, and then I'll go my own way.'

" Peter, if you were smaller and I were bigger I
think I should spank you," laughed Lady Tanagra.
Then with great seriousness she said, " I warn
you to marry her, and I'm going the only way to
work to make her let you. Do try and trust me,
Peter."

Bowen looked down at her with a smile, touched
by the look in her eyes. For a moment his arm
rested across her shoulders. Then he pushed her
towards the door. " Clear out, Tan. I'm not fit
for a bear-pit to-night."

The Bowens were never demonstrative with
one another.

For half an hour Bowen sat smoking one
cigarette after another until he was interrupted
by the entrance of Peel, who, after a comprehen-
sive glance round the room, proceeded to
administer here and there those deft touches
that emphasize a patient and orderly mind.
Bowen watched him as he moved about on the
balls of his feet.

" Have you ever been to Eastbourne, Peel ? "
enquired Bowen presently. Just why he asked
the question he could not have said.

" Only once, my lord," replied Peel as he
replaced the full ash-tray on the table by Bowen
with a clean one. There was a note in his voice
implying that nothing would ever tempt him to
go there again

«

GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID 283

' You don't like it ? " suggested Bowen.

1 I dislike it intensely, my lord," replied Peel
as he refolded a copy of The Times.

" Why ? "

" It has unpleasant associations, my lord," was
the reply.

Bowen smiled. After a moment's silence he
continued :

Been sowing wild oats there ? "
No, my lord, not exactly."
Well, if it's not too private," said Bowen,
" tell me what happened. At the moment I'm
particularly interested in the place."

Peel gazed reproachfully at a copy of The
Sphere, which had managed in some strange way
to get its leaves dog-eared. As he proceeded to
smooth them out he continued :

" It was when I was young, my lord. I was en-
gaged to be married. I thought her a most excellent
young woman, in every way suitable. She went
down to Eastbourne for a holiday." He paused.

' Well, there doesn't seem much wrong in
that," said Bowen.

" From Eastbourne she wrote, saying that she
had changed her mind," proceeded Peel.

' The devil she did ! " exclaimed Bowen. " And
what did you do ? "

" I went down to reason with her, my lord,"
said Peel.

" Does one reason with a womaix. Peel ? "
enquired Bowen with a smile.

284 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" I was very young then, my lord, not more
than thirty-two." Peel's tone was apologetic.
" I discovered that she had received an offer of
marriage from another."

" Hard luck ! " murmured Bowen.

" Not at all, my lord, really," said Peel philo-
sophically. " I discovered that she had re-
engaged herself to a butcher, a most offensive
fellow. His language when I expostulated with
him was incredibly coarse, and I am sure he used
marrow for his hair."

" And what did you do ? " enquired Bowen.

" I had taken a return ticket, my lord. I came
back to London."

Bowen laughed. "J'm afraid you couldn't
have been very badly hit, Peel, or you would not
have been able to take it quite so philosophi-
cally."

" I have never allowed my private affairs to
interfere with my professional duties, my lord,"
replied Peel unctuously.

For five minutes Bowen smoked in silence.
" So you do not believe in marriage," he said at
length.

" I would not say that, my lord ; but I do not
think it suitable for a man of temperament such
as myself. I have known marriages quite success-
ful where too much was not required of the con-
tracting parties."

"But don't you believe in love?" enquired
Bowen.

GALVIN HOUSE AFTER THE RAID 285

" Love, my lord, is like a disease. If you are
on the look out for it you catch it, if you ignore
it, it does not trouble you. I was once with a
gentleman who was very nervous about microbes.
He would never eat anything that had not been
cooked, and he had everything about him dis-
infected. He even disinfected me," he added as if
in proof of the extreme eccentricity of his late
employer.

" So I suppose you despise me for having fallen
in love and contemplating marriage," said Bo wen
with a smile.

' There are always exceptions, my lord," re-
sponded Peel tactfully. " I have prepared the
bath."

" Peel," remarked Bowen as he rose and
stretched himself, " disinfected or not disinfected,
you are safe from the microbe of romance."

" I hope so, my lord," responded Peel as he
opened the door.

" I wonder if history will repeat itself," mur-
mured Bowen as he walked through his bedroom
into the bathroom. " I, too, hate Eastbourne."

CHAPTER XX

A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD

BEFORE she had been at Eastbourne twenty-
four hours Patricia was convinced that she
had made a mistake in going there. With
no claims upon her time, the restlessness that had
developed in London increased until it became
almost unbearable. The hotel at which she was
staying was little more than a glorified boarding-
house, full of " the most jungly of jungle-people,"
as she expressed it to herself. Their well-meant
and kindly efforts to engage her in their pursuits
and pleasures she received with apathetic nega-
tion. At length her fellow-guests, seeing that she
was determined not to respond to their over-
tures, left her severely alone. The men were
the last to desist.

She came to dislike the pleasure-seekers about
her and grew critical of everything she saw, the
redness of the women's faces, the assumed youth-
fulness of the elderly men, the shapelessness of
matrons who seemed to delight in bright open-
work blouses and juvenile hats. She remembered
Elton's remark that Fashion uncovers a multitude
of shins. The shins exposed at Eastbourne were

286

A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD 287
she decided, sufficient to undermine one's belief in
the early chapters of Genesis.

At one time she would have been amused at the
types around her, and their various conceptions
of " one crowded hour of glorious life." As it was,
everything seemed sordid and trivial. Why
should people lose all sense of dignity and propor-
tion at a set period of the year? It was, she
decided, almost as bad as being a hare.

All she wanted was to be alone, she told her-
self ; yet as soon as she had discovered some
secluded spot and had settled herself down to read,
the old restlessness attacked her, and fight against
it as she might, she was forced back again to the
haunts of men.

For the first few days she watched eagerly for
letters. None came. She would return to the
hotel several times a day, look at the letter-rack,
then, to hide her disappointment, make a pretence
of having returned for some other purpose. " Why
had not Bowen written ? " she asked herself, then
a moment after she strove to convince herself that
I he had forgotten, or at least that she was only an
episode in his life.

His sudden change from eagerness to indiffer-
ence caused her to flush with humiliation ; yet
he had gone to Galvin House during the raid to
assure himself of her safety. Why had he not
: written after what had occurred ? Perhaps Aunt
Adelaide was right about men after all.

Patricia wrote to Lady Tanagra, Mrs. Hamilton,

288 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Lad} Peggy, Mr. Triggs, even to Miss Sikkum.
In due course answers arrived ; but in only Miss
Sikkum's letter was there any reference to Bowen,
a gush of sentiment about " how happy you must
be, dear Miss Brent, with Lord Bowen running
down to see you every other day. I know ! " she
added with maidenly prescience. Patricia laughed.

Mr. Triggs committed himself to nothing more
than two and three-quarter pages, mainly about
his daughter and "A. B.," Mr. Triggs was not at
his best as a correspondent. Lady Tanagra ran to
four pages ; but as her handwriting was large,
five lines filling a page, her letter was disappoint-
ing.

Lady Peggy was the most productive. In the
course of twelve pages of spontaneity she told
Patricia that the Duke and the Cabinet Minister
had almost quarrelled about her, Patricia. " Peter
has been to lunch with us and Daddy has told him
how lucky he is, and how wonderful you are. If
Peter is not very careful, I shall have you pre-
sented to me as a stepmother. Wouldn't it be
priceless ! " she wrote. " Oh ! What am I writ-
ing ? " She ended with the Duke's love, and an
insistence that Patricia should lunch at Curzon
Street the first Sunday after her return.

Patricia found Lady Peggy's letter charming.
She was pleased to know that she had made a good
impression and was admired — by the right people.
Twenty-four hours, however, found her once more
thrown back into the trough of her own despond-

A RACE WITH SP1JSSTERHOOD 289
ency. Instinctively she began to count the days
until this " dire compulsion of infertile days "
should end She could not very well return to Lon-
don and say that she was tired of holiday-making.
Galvin House would put its own construction upon
her action and words, and whatever that construc-
tion might be, it was safe to assume that it would
be an unpleasant one.

There were moments when a slight uplifting
of the veil enabled her to see herself as she must
appear to others.

" Patricia ! " she exclaimed one morning to her
reflection in a rather dubious mirror. ' You're
a cumberer of the earth and, furthermore, you've
got a beastly temper," and she jabbed a pin
through her hat and partly into her head.

As the days passed she found herself wondering
what was the earliest day she could return. If she
made it the Friday night, would it arouse sus-
picion ? She decided that it would, and settled
to leave Eastbourne on the Saturday afternoon.

As the train steamed out of the station she made
a grimace in the direction of the town, just as an
inoffensive and prematurely bald little man oppo-
site looked up from his paper. He gave Patricia
one startled look through his gold-rimmed
spectacles and, for the rest of the journey, buried
himself behind his paper, fearful lest Patricia
should " make another face at him," as he ex-
plained to his mother that evening.

" She's come home in a nice temper 1 " was Miss

2QO PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
Wangle's diagnosis of the mood in which Patricia
reached Galvin House.

Gustave regarded her with anxious concern.

The first dinner drove her almost mad. The
raid, as a topic of conversation, was on the wane,
although Mr. Bolton worked at it nobly, and
Patricia found herself looked upon to supply the
necessary material for the evening's amusement.
What had she done ? Where had she been ? Had
she bathed ? Were the dresses pretty ? How
many times had Bowen been down ? Had she
met any nice people ? Was it true that the
costumes of the women were disgraceful ?

At last, with a forced laugh, Patricia told them
that she must have " notice " of such questions,
and everybody had looked at her in surprise, until
Mr. Bolton's laugh rang out, and he explained the
parliamentary allusion.

When at last, under pretence of being tired, she
was able to escape to her room, she felt that
another five minutes would have turned her brain.

Sunday dawned, and with it the old panorama
of iterations unfolded itself : Mr. Bolton's velvet
coat and fez, Mr. Cordal's carpet slippers with the
fur tops, Mrs. Barnes' indecision, Mr. Sefton's
genial and romantic optimism, Miss Sikkum's
sumptuary excesses ; all presented themselves in
due sequence just as they had done for — " was it
centuries ? " Patricia asked herself. To crown
all it was a roast-pork Sunday, and the reek of
onions preparing for the seasoning filled the house.

A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD 291
Patricia felt that the fates were fighting against
her. In nerving herself for the usual human Sun-
day ordeal, she had forgotten the vegetable
menace, in other words that it was " pork Sun-
day." Mr. Bolt on was always more than usually
trying on Sundays ; but reinforced by onions he
was almost unbearable. Patricia fled.

It was the Sunday before August Bank Holiday.
Patricia shuddered at the remembrance. It
meant that people were away. She did not pause
to think that her world was at home, pursuing its
various paths whereby to cultivate an appetite
worthy of the pork that was even then sizzling
in the Galvin House kitchen under the eagle eye
of the cook, who prided herself on her "crack-
ling," which Galvin House crunched with noisy
gusto.

Patricia sank down upon a chair far back under
the trees opposite the Stanhope Gate. Here she
remained in a vague way watching the people,
yet unconscious of their presence. From time to
time some snatch of meaningless conversation
would reach her. ' You know Betty's such a
sport ? " one man said to another. Patricia
found herself wondering what Betty was like and
what, to the speaker's mind, constituted being a
sport. Was Betty pretty ? She must be, Patricia
decided ; no one cared whether or no a plain girl
were a sport. She found herself wanting to know
Betty. What were the lives of all these people,
these shadows, that were moving to and fro in

292 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

front of her, each intent upon something that

seemed of vital importance ? Were they ? "

" I doubt if Cassandra could have looked more
gloomily prophetic.'

She turned with a start and saw Geoffrey Elton
smiling down upon her.

" Did I look as bad as that ? " she enquired,
as he took a seat beside her.

" You looked as if you were gratuitously
settling the destinies of the world," he replied.

" In a way I suppose I was," she said musingly.
" You see they all mean something," indicating
the paraders with a nod of her head, " tragedy,
comedy, farce, sometimes all three. If you only
stop to think about life, it all seems so hopeless.
I feel sometimes that I could run away from
it all."

" That in the Middle Ages would have been
diagnosed as the monastic spirit," said Elton. " It
arose, and no doubt continues in most cases to
arise from a sluggish liver."

" How dreadful ! " laughed Patricia. " The
inference is obvious."

" The world's greatest achievements and
greatest tragedies could no doubt be traced
directly to rebellious livers : Waterloo and ' Ham-
let ' are instances."

" Are you serious ? " enquired Patricia. She
was never quite certain of Elton.

" In a way I suppose I am," he replied. " If I
were a pathologist I should write a book upon

A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD 293
The Influence of Disease upon the Destinies of the
World. The supreme monarch is the microbe.
The Germans have shown that they recognise
this."

" Ugh ! " Patricia shuddered.

" Of course you have to make some personal
sacrifice in the matter of self-respect first," con-
tinued Elton, " but after that the rest becomes
easy."

' I suppose that is what a German victory
would mean," said Patricia.

' Yes ; we should give up lead and nickel and
T.N.T., and invent germ distributors. Essen
would become a great centre of germ-culture,
and "

"Oh ! please let us talk about something else,"
cried Patricia. " It's horrible ! "

" Well ! " said Elton with a smile, " shall we
continue our talk over lunch, if you have no
engagement ? "

' Lady Peggy asked me " began Patricia.

' They're away in Somerset," said Elton, " so
now I claim you as my victim. It is your destiny
to save me from my own thoughts."

"And yours to save me from roast pork and
apple sauce," said Patricia, rising. As they
walked towards Hyde Park Corner she explained
the Galvin House cuisine.

They lunched at the Ritz and, to her surprise
Patricia found herself eating with enjoyment, a
thing she had not done for weeks past. She decided

294 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
that it must be a revulsion of feeling after the
menace of roast pork. Elton was a good talker,
with a large experience of life and a considerable
fund of general information.

' I should like to travel," said Patricia as she
sipped her coffee in the lounge.

' Why ? " Elton held a match to her cigarette.

" Oh ! I suppose because it is enjoyable," re-
plied Patricia; "besides, it educates," she added.

" That is too conventional to be worthy of
you," said Elton.

" How ? " queried Patricia.

" Most of the dull people I know ascribe their
dullness to lack of opportunities for travel. They
seem to think that a voyage round the world will
make brilliant talkers of the toughest bores."

" Am I as tedious as that ? " enquired Patricia,
looking up with a smile.

" Your friend, Mr. Triggs, for instance," con-
tinued Elton, passing over Patricia's remark. " He
has not travelled, and he is always interesting.
Why ? "

" I suppose because he is Mr. Triggs," said
Patricia half to herself.

" Exactly," said Elton. " If you were really
yourself you would not be "

" So dull," broke in Patricia with a laugh.

" So lonely," continued Elton, ignoring the
interruption.

" Why do you say that ? " demanded Patricia.
" It's not exactly a compliment."

A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD 295

" Intellectual loneliness may be the lot of the
greatest social success."

" But why do you think I am lonely ? " persisted
Patricia.

" Let us take Mr. Triggs as an illustration.
He is direct, unversed in diplomacy, golden-
hearted, with a great capacity for friendship and
sentiment. When he is hurt he shows it as plainly
as a child, therefore we none of us hurt him."

" He's a dear ! " murmured Patricia half to
herself.

" If he were in love he would never permit pride
to disguise it."

Patricia glanced up at Elton : but he was
engaged in examining the end of his cigarette.

" He would credit the other person with the
same sincerity as himself," continued Elton. " The
biggest rogue respects an honest man, that is why
we, who are always trying to disguise our emotions,
admire Mr. Triggs, who would just as soon wear
a red beard and false eyebrows as seek to convey
a false impression."

Patricia found herself wondering why Elton had
selected this topic. She was conscious that it was
not due to chance.

' Is it worth it ? " Elton's remark, half com-
mand, half question, seemed to stab through her
thoughts.

She looked up at him, her eyes a little widened
with surprise.

" Is what svorth what ? " she enquired.

296 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" I was just wondering," said Elton, " if the
Triggses are not very wise in eating onions
and not bothering about what the world will
think."

" Eating onions ! " cried Patricia.

" My medical board is on Tuesday up North,"
said Elton, " and I shall hope to get back to
France. You see things in a truer perspective
when you're leaving town under such conditions."

Patricia was silent for some time. Elton's
remarks sometimes wanted thinking out.

' You think we should take happiness where we
can find it ? " she asked.

" Well ! I think we are too much inclined to
render unto Caesar the things which are God's," he
replied gravely.

" Do you appreciate that you are talking in
parables ? " said Patricia.

" That is because I do not possess Mr. Triggs's
golden gift of directness."

Suddenly Patricia glanced at her watch. " Why,
it's five minutes to three ! " she cried. " I had no
idea it was so late."

" I promised to run round to say good-bye to
Peter at three," Elton remarked casually, as he
passed through the lounge.

" Good-bye ! " cried Patricia in surprise.

" He is throwing up his staff appointment, and
has applied to rejoin his regiment in France."

For a moment Patricia stopped dead, then with
a great effort she passed through the revolving

A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD 297
door into the sunlight. Her knees seemed strangely
shaky, and she felt thankful when she saw the
porter hail a taxi. Elton handed her in and closed
the door.

" Galvin House ? " he interrogated.

" When does he go ? " asked Patricia in a voice
that she could not keep even in tone.

" As soon as the War Office approves," said
Elton.

" Does Lady Tanagra know ? " she asked.

" No, Peter will not tell her until everything is
settled," he replied.

As the taxi sped westwards Patricia was con-
scious that some strange change had come over
her. She had the feeling that follows a long bout
of weeping. Peter was going away ! Suddenly
everything was changed ! Everything was ex-
plained ! She must see him ! Prevent him from
going back to France ! He was going because of
her ! He would be killed and it would be her
fault !

Arrived at Galvin House she went straight to
her room. For two hours she lay on her bed, her
mind in a turmoil, her head feeling as if it were
being compressed into a mould too small for it.
No matter how she strove to control them, her
thoughts inevitably returned to the phrase, " Peter
is going to France."

Unknown to herself, she was fighting a great
fight with her pride. She must see him, but how ?
If she telephoned it would be an unconditional

298 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
surrender. She could never respect herself again.
" When you are in love you take pleasure in
trampling your pride underfoot/' The phrase
persisted in obtruding itself. Where had she
heard it ? What was pride ? she asked herself.
One might be very lonely with pride as one's sole
companion. What would Mr. Triggs say ? She
could see his forehead corrugated with trying
to understand what pride had to do with love.
Even Elton, self -restrained, almost self-sufficient,
admitted that Mr. Triggs was right.

If she let Peter go ? A year hence, a month
perhaps, she might have lost him. Of what use
would her pride be then ? She had not known
before ; but now she knew how much Peter meant
to her. Since he had come into her life everything
had changed, and she had grown discontented
with the things that, hitherto, she had tacitly
accepted as her portion.

" You're fretting, me dear ! " Mr. Triggs's
remark came back to her. She recalled how
indignant she had been. Why ? Because it was
true She had been cross. She remembered the
old man's anxiety lest he had offended her. She
almost smiled as she recalled his clumsy effort to
explain away his remark.

She had heard someone knock gently at her
door, once, twice, three times. She made no
response. Then Gustave's voice whispered, " Tea
is served in the looaunge, mees." She heard him
creep away with clumsv stealth. There was a

A RACE WITH SPINSTERHOOD 299
sweet-natured creature. He could never disguise
an emotion. He had come upstairs during the
raid, though in obvious terror, in order to save her.
Mr. Triggs, Gustave, Elton, all were against her.
She knew that in some subtle way they were
working to fight her pride.

For some time longer she lay, then suddenly she
sprang up. First she bathed her face, then undid
her hair, finally she changed her frock and pow-
dered her nose.

" Hurry up, Patricia ! or you may think better
of it," she cried to her reflection in the glass.
' This is a race with spinsterhood."

Going downstairs quietly she went to the tele-
phone.

" Gerrard 60000," she called, conscious that
both her voice and her knees were unsteady.

After what seemed an age there came the reply,
" Quadrant Hotel."

" Is Lord Peter Bowen in ? " she enquired.
' Thank you," she added in response to the
clerk's promise to enquire.

Her hand was shaking. She almost dropptd
the receiver. He must be out, she told herself,
after what seemed to her an age of waiting. If
he were in they would have found him. Perhaps

he had already started for

' Who is that ? " It was Bowen's voice.

Patricia felt she could sing. So he had not gone !
Would her knees play her false and cheat her ?

"|It's — it's me," she said, regardless of grammar.

300 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

" That's delightful ; but who is me ? " came
the response.

No wonder woman liked him if he spoke like
that to them, she decided.

Suddenly she realised that even she herself
could not recognise as her own the voice with
which she was speaking.

" Patricia," she said.

" Patricia ! " There was astonishment, almost
incredulity in his voice. So Elton had said nothing.
' Where are you ? Can I see you ? "

Patricia felt her cheeks burn at the eagerness
of his tone.

" I'm — I'm going out. I — I'll call for you if you
like," she stammered.

" I say, how ripping of you. Come in a taxi or
shall I come and fetch you ? "

" No, I — I'm coming now, I'm " then she

put up the receiver. What was she going to do or
say ? For a moment she swayed. Was she going
to faint ? A momentary deadly sickness seemed
to overcome her. She fought it back fiercely. She
must get to the Quadrant. " I shall have to be a
sort of reincarnation of Mrs. Triggs, J think,"
she murmured as she staggered past the as-
tonished Gustave, who was just coming from the
lounge, and out of the front door, where she
secured a taxi

CHAPTER XXI

THE GREATEST INDISCRETION

IN the vestibule of the Quadrant stood Peel,
looking a veritable colossus of negation. As
Patricia approached he bowed and led the
way to the lift. As it slid upwards Patricia
wondered if Peel could hear the thumping of her
heart, and if so, what he thought of it. She fol-
lowed him along the carpeted corridor conscious
of a mad desire to turn and fly. What would Peel
do ? she wondered. Possibly in the madness of the
moment his mantle of discretion might fall from
him, and he would dash after her. What a sensa-
tion for the Quadrant ! A girl tearing along as if
for her life pursued by a gentleman's servant. It
would look just like the poster of " Charley's
Aunt."

Peel opened the door of Bowen's sitting-room,
and Patricia entered with the smile still on her lips
that the thought of "Charley's Aunt" had
aroused. Something seemed to spring towards her
from inside the room, and she found herself caught
in a pair of arms and kissed. She remembered

301

302 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
wondering if Peel were behind, or if he had closed
the door, then she abandoned herself to Bowen's
embrace.

Everything seemed somehow changed. It was
as if someone had suddenly shouldered her respon-
sibilities, and she would never have to think again
for herself. Her lips, her eyes, her hair, were
kissed in turn. She was being crushed ; yet she
was conscious only of a feeling of complete con-
tent.

Suddenly the realisation of what was happening
dawned upon her, and she strove to free herself.
With all her force she pushed Bowen from her.
He released her. She stood back looking at him
with crimson cheeks and unseeing eyes. She was
conscious that something unusual was happening
to her, something in which she appeared to have
no voice. Perhaps it was all a dream. She swayed
a little. The same sensation she had fought back
at the telephone was overcoming her. Was she
going to faint ? It would be ridiculous to faint in
Bowen's rooms. Why did people faint ? Was it
really, as Aunt Adelaide had told her, because the
heart missed a beat ? One beat

She felt Bowen's arm round her, she seemed to
sway towards a chair. Was the chair really moving
away from her ? Then the mist seemed to clear.
Someone was kneeling beside her.

Bowen gazed at her anxiously. Her face was
now colourless, and her eyes closed wearily. She
sighed as a tired child sighs before falling asleep.

THE GREATEST INDISCRETION 303

" Patricia ! what is the matter ? " cried Bowen
In alarm. " You haven't fainted, have you ? "

She was conscious of the absurdity of the ques-
tion. She opened her eyes with a curious fluttering
movement of the lids, as if they were uncertain
how long they could remain unclosed. A slow,
tired smile played across her face, like a passing
shaft of sunshine, then the lids closed again and
the life seemed to go out of her body.

Bowen gently withdrew his arm and, rising,
strode across to a table on which was a decanter
of whisky and syphon of soda. With unsteady
hands, he poured whisky and soda into a glass and,
returning to Patricia, he passed his arm gently
behind her head, placing the glass against her lips.
She drank a little and then, with a shudder,
turned her head aside. A moment later her eyes
opened again. She looked round the room, then
fixed her gaze on Bowen as if trying to explain to
herself his presence. Gradually the colour re-
turned to her cheeks and she sighed deeply. She
shook her head as Bowen put the glass against her
lips.

" I nearly fainted," she whispered, sighing
again. " I've never done such a thing." Then
after a pause she added, " I wonder what has
happened. My head feels so funny."

" It's all my fault," said Bowen penitently.
" I've waited so long, and I seemed to go mad.
You will forgive me, dearest, won't you ? " his
voice was full of concern.

304 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

Patricia smiled. " Have I been here long ? "
she asked. " It seems ages since I came."

" No ; only about five minutes. Oh, Patricia !
you won't do it again, will you ? " Bowen drew
her nearer to him and upset the glass containing
the remains of the whisky and soda that he had
placed on the floor beside him.

' I didn't quite faint, really," she said earnestly,
as if defending herself from a reproach.

" I mean throw me over," explained Bowen,
"It's been hell!"

" Please go and sit down," she said, moving
restlessly. "I'm all right now. I — I want to
talk and I can't talk like this." Again she '
smiled, and Bowen lifted her hand and kissed it
gently. Rising he drew a chair near her and sat
down.

' You see all this comes of trying to be a Mrs.
Triggs," she said regretfully.

" Mrs. Triggs ! " Bowen looked at her
anxiously.

Slowly and a little wearily Patricia explained
her conversation with Elton. " Didn't he tell you
he had seen me ? "

" No," replied Bowen, relieved at the explana-
tion ; " Godfrey is a perfect dome of silence on
occasion."

4 Why did you suddenly leave me all alone, j
Peter ? " Patricia enquired presently. !

couldn't understand. It hurt me terribly. I didn't
realise " — she paused — " oh, everything, until I

THE GREATEST INDISCRETION 305
heard you were going away. Oh, my dear ! '"she
cried in a low voice, " be gentle with me. I'm all
bruises."

Bowen bent across to her. " I'm a brute," he
said, " but "

She shook her head. " Not that sort," she said.

' It's my pride I've bruised. I seem to have

turned everything upside down. You'll have to

be very gentle with me at first, please." She

looked up at him with a flicker of a smile.

" Not only at first, dear, but always," said
Bowen gently as he rose and seated himself beside
her. " Patricia, when did you — care ? " he
blurted out the last word hurriedly.

" I don't know," she replied dreamily. " You
see," she continued after a pause, " I've not been
like other girls. Do you know, Peter," she looked
up at him shyly, " you're the first man who has
ever kissed me, except my father. Isn't it ab-
surd ? "

" It's nothing of the sort," Bowen declared,
tilting up her chin and gazing down into her eyes.
" But you haven't answered my question."

" Well ! " continued Patricia, speaking slowly,
14 when you sent me flowers and messengers and
telegraph-boys and things I was angry, and then
when you didn't I " she paused.

" Wanted them," he suggested.

" U-m-m-m ! ' she nodded her head. " I
suppose so," she conceded. " But," she added
with a sudden change of mood, " I shall always

PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
be dreadfully afraid of Peel. He seems so per
feet."

Bowen laughed. " I'll try and balance matters/'
he said.

" But you haven't told me," said Patricia, I
" why you left me alone all at once. Why did
you ? " She looked up enquiringly at him.

During the next half an hour Patricia slowly '\
drew from Bowen the whole story of the plot
engineered by Lady Tanagra.

" But why," questioned Patricia, " were you
going away if you knew that — that everything
would come all right ? "

" I had given up hope, and I couldn't break my
promise to Tan. I convinced myself that you
didn't care."

Patricia held out her hand with a smile. Bowen
bent and kissed it.

" I wonder what you are thinking of me ? " She
looked up at him anxiously. "I'm very much at
your mercy now, Peter, aren't I ? You won't let
me ever regret it, will you ? "

"Do you Tegret it?" he whispered, bending
towards her, conscious of the fragrance of her
hair.

"It's such an unconditional surrender," she
complained. "All my pride is bruised and
trampled underfoot. You have me at such a dis-
advantage."

"So long as I've got you I don't care," he
laughed.

THE GREATEST INDISCRETION 307

" Peter/' said Patricia after a few minutes of
silence, " I want you to ring up Tanagra and
Godfrey Elton and ask them to dine here this
evening. They must put off any other engage-
ment. Tell them I say so."

" But can't we ? " began Bowen.

' There, you are making me regret already,"
she said with a flash of her old vivacity.

Bowen flew to the telephone. By a lucky
chance Elton was calling at Grosvenor Square,
and Bowen was able to get them both with one call.
He was a little disappointed, however, at not hav-
ing Patricia to himself that evening.

1 When shall we get married ? " Bowen asked
eagerly, as Patricia rose and announced that she
must go and repair damages to her face and gar-
ments.

" I will tell you after dinner," she said as she
walked towards the door.

II

' It is only the impecunious who are constrained
to be modest," remarked Elton as the four sat
smoking in Bowen's room after dinner.

" Is that an apology, or merely a statement of
fact ? " asked Lady Tanagra.

" I think," remarked Patricia quietly " that
it is an apology."

Elton looked across at her with one of those
quick movements of his eyes that showed who

308 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

alert his mind was, in spite of the languid ease of

his manner.

" And now," continued Patricia, " I have some-
thing very important to say to you all."

" Oh ! " groaned Lady Tanagra, " spare me
from the self-importance of the newly-engaged

girl/'

" It has come to my knowledge, Tanagra/
proceeded Patricia, " that you and Mr. Elton did
deliberately and wittingly conspire together
against my peace of mind and happiness. There ! "
she added, " that's almost legal in its ambiguity,
isn't it ? "

Lady Tanagra and Elton exchanged glances.

' ' What do you mean ? ' ' demanded Lady
Tanagra gaily.

Patricia explained that she had extracted from
Bowen the whole story. Lady Tanagra looked
reproachfully at her brother. Then turning to
Patricia she said with unwonted seriousness : »

4 I saw that was the only way to — to — well get
you for a sister-in-law and," she paused a moment
uncertainly. " I knew you were the only girl for
that silly old thing there, who was blundering up
the whole business."

"Your mania for interfering in other people's
affairs will be your ruin, Tanagra," said Patricia
as she turned to Elton, her look clearly enquiring
if he had any excuse to offer.

' The old Garden of Eden answer," he said.
" A woman tempted me."

THE GREATEST INDISCRETION 309

' Then we will apply the old Garden of Eden
punishment," announced Patricia.

Elton, who was the first to grasp her meaning,
looked anxiously at Lady Tanagra, who with
knitted brows was endeavouring to penetrate to
Patricia's meaning. Bowen was obviously at sea.
Suddenly Lady Tanagra's face flamed and her
eyes dropped. Elton stroked the back of his head,
a habit he had when preoccupied — he was never
nervous.

' You two/' continued Patricia, now thoroughly
enjoying herself, " have precipitated yourselves
into my most private affairs, and in return I am
going to take a hand in yours. Peter has asked
me when I will marry him. I said I would tell
him after dinner this evening."

Bowen looked across at her eagerly, Elton lit
another cigarette, Lady Tanagra toyed nervously
with her amber cigarette-holder.

4 I will marry Peter," announced Patricia,
" when you, Tanagra," she paused slightly,
" marry Godfrey Elton."

Lady Tanagra looked up with a startled cry.
Her eyes were wide with something that seemed
almost fear, then without warning she turned and
buried her head in a cushion and burst into uncon-
trollable sobbing.

Bowen started up. With a swift movement
Patricia went over to his side and, before he knew
what was happening, he was in the corridor
stuttering his astonishment to Patricia.

3io PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER

For an hour the two sat in the lounge below,
talking and listening to the band. Patricia ex-
plained to Bowen how from the first she had known
that Elton and Tanagra were in love.

" But we've known him all our lives ! " expostu-
lated Bowen.

' The very thing that blinded you all to a most
obvious fact."

" But why didn't he ? " began Bowen.

" Because of her money," explained Patricia.
" Anyhow," she continued gaily, " I had lost my
own tail, and I wasn't going to see Tanagra
wagging hers before my eyes. Now let's go up
and see what has happened."

Just as Bowen's hand was on the handle of the
sitting-room door, Patricia cried out that she had
dropped a ring. When they entered the room
Elton and Lady Tanagra were standing facing the
door. One glance at their faces, told Patricia all
she wanted to know. Without a word Elton came
forward and bending low, kissed her hand. There
was something so touching in his act of deference
that Patricia felt her throat contract.

She went across to Lady Tanagra and put her
arm round her.

' You darling ! " whispered Lady Tanagra.
' How clever of you to know."

"I knew the first time I saw you together,
whispered Patricia.

Lady Tanagra hugged her.

" And now we must all run round to Gr<

THE GREATEST INDISCRETION 311
venor Square. Poor Mother— what a surprise for

her ! "

ill
Elton's medical board took a more serious view
of his state of health than was anticipated, and he
was temporarily given an appointment in the In-
telligence Department. Bowen's application to
be allowed to rejoin his regiment was refused, and
thus the way was cleared for the double wedding
that took place at St. Margaret's, Westminster.

Patricia was given away by the Duke of Gayton
Lady Peggy declared that it would rank as the
most heroic act he had ever performed. Mr.
Triggs reached the highest sartorial pinnacle of his
career in a light grey, almost white frock-coated
suit with a high hat to match, a white waistcoat,
and a white satin tie. As Elton expressed it, he
looked like a musical -comedy conception of a
bookmaker turned philanthropist.

Galvin House was there in force. Even Gustave
obtained an hour off and, with a large white rose in
his button-hole, beamed on everyone and every-
thing with the utmost impartiality. Miss Brent,
like Achilles, sulked in her tent.

' The only two men I ever loved," wailed Lady
Peggy to a friend, " and both gone at one shot."

" She's a lucky girl," said an old dowager, " and
only a secretary."

" Some girl. What ! " muttered an embryo
field-marshal to a one-pip strategist in the uniform

312 PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
of the Irish Guards, who concurred with an em-
phatic, " Lucky devil ! "

At Galvin House for the rest of the chapter they
talked, dreamed and lived the Bowen-Brent
marriage. It was the one ineffaceable sunspot in
the greyness of their lives.

PR'
6019
.E534
P38

Jenkins, Herbert George 1876-
1923.
Patricia Brent, spinster. —

s:ifnP ^-

.

HERBERT

JENKINS'
BOOK