Patricia Brent, Spinster

g 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'

he muttered under her breath. "I hate women!" Later she slipped out of the house unobserved, with what she described to herself

olutely aside. She was angry with herself, angry with the world, angry w

ourth correction in the same letter. "Going

ly, with a feeling of hot shame, she remembered to what thoughts she had laid herself open. Her one consolation was that she would ne

tes to five she resolutely put aside her notebook, and banged the cover on to her typewriter. Mr. Bonsor looked up at this unwonted energy and punctua

ng o

Patricia, "I

he value of silence when faced by certain phases of feminine psychological phenomena. He the

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 b

alk won't do you any harm," and she strolled slowly

n the direction of the letter-rack; but her eyes were arrested by two boxes, one ver

Sikkum came out of t

ave you seen your

extremely happy she was. Glancing almost indifferently at the labels

oing to open them

d no idea it was so late," and she ran upstairs, leaving

pains with her toilette. Had she paused to

at the table, all expectantly awaiting her entrance. On

ht in here, Miss Brent," e

Patricia indifferently, "I suppose I had be

ight." The larger of the boxes was filled with an enormous spray-bunch of white and red carnati

had not forgotten! He had dared to disobey her injunction; for, she told herself, "good-bye" clearly forbade the sending of flowers and chocolates

ho, however, was too occupied in watching Patricia with hawk

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 "

friend," said Mr. Bolton, "I should expect h

ith a forced smile replied, "Ah! Mr. Bolton, but you ar

-engaged girl. The situation was strange. Even Mr. Cordal was bestowing upon her a portion of his attention. It is true that he was eating curry with a spoon, which requ

little tray where the silver had long since given up the unequal struggle with th

ting, mees," ins

and read: "May I come and see yo

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

id. It was ridiculous to tip them, especially when they brought undesirable messages. "Was the message undesirable?" some

meal, she was conscious of the atmosphere of expectancy aro

nquired, "No bad news

ss Wangle with a deliberate sta

e, thank you," sh

sweet was being served, when Gu

es, on the telephon

rimsoning as she turned to Gustave. "

m. Everybody watched the do

tricia's chair, whispered in a voice that could be clearly heard

ricia calmly. She could literally hea

nt," began Mrs

sitated. Mrs. Craske-Morton collapsed. Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe exchanged meaning

ard, Gu

and, turning reluctantly towa

t any comment on her action, and the meal continued in silence. Mr. Bolton mad

later, Gustave once more approach

aiting, mees,"

open the env

PATR

Please remember that even t

ever, "

" said Patricia, and Gustave

ter Gustave ret

her wildly. "Had the man suddenly gone mad?" she asked

s three b

Mr. Bolton laughed, then stoppe

with a calmness that was

e boys not to

f ethics the allowing of three telegrams to remain unopened, and to dismiss three boys without knowing wheth

atives, or coming into a lot of fortune

up to her room to discover from the three orange envelopes what was the lates

irst

toring with me

d do nothing

econd

to offend you please tell

nd it was all very absurd. Why w

was long

lightful evening I have spent for many a da

sly 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, unless-unless-- She ha

with the Quadrant Grill-room; but angriest of all with Ga

ass. 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

ill probably be a secretary to the end of your days, drink cold weak tea, keep a cat and g

in her meditations b

n," she

ly opened and Mrs

uired in an apologetic voice,

f course you may, you dear. You c

light in her soul. She invariably dressed in grey, or blue-grey.

r affairs, my dear; but I am concerned. If there is anything I can do,

lonel 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 she

xpostulated

s, aren't I getting a

downstairs Mrs.

my dear. Miss Wangle says he

Patricia, with

l Bowen

old thing, and he's given Galvin Hou

t direct questions to her. Mrs. Craske-Morton ventured a suggestion that Colonel Bowen might be coming to dine with

rned out to be a private, Mrs. Craske-Morton would have been the last even to suggest that

ntered and approached Patri

ed on the tel

roach in his voice, as if he were conscious

at I'm engaged?"

lonel Ba

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 of reconciled martyrd

e mouthpiece of the telephone,

lked tactf

atricia?" ca

ious that all her

ho is s

et

es

are

me up to ask a

laugh at t

ia, who knew she was be

get my

very

hy

ulous with your telegrams, me

I c

N

ng to-mor

all b

wait until

ing the game,

ou. Expect me

nothing of

't be angry

then. Thank you for the

. Don't forget to

ou I shal

ght

od-

a reply, Patricia

urdly happy. Then a moment after she asked herself what it was to her whether he

the night, another telegram arrived. It c

atures!" she murmured, lau