Patricia Brent, Spinster

o 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

relate held out very little hope of salvation

le and her ecclesiastical relic with the simple question, "And who'll pay

herself to the inevitable, conscious that she had done her utmost for the social salvation of her fellow-guests, and mentally r

ders what he conceived to be the real

gle would eat if left unfed fo

ike Dominie Sampson's favour

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 it

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 th

Smythe exchanged significant glances. Woman-like they sensed s

ired Mrs. Mosscro

as Patricia's

in House) before Gustave entered with an enormous bouquet of crimson carnations. It might almost be said that the carnations entered propelled by Gustave,

with Colonel Bau

te, the crimson blooms

lton. It was always easy to identify the facetious from the

ated the litera

r. Bolton was joking,"

miled a mechanical smile

, Miss Brent?" enquired Mrs. Cra

h," suggeste

from

h Patricia had been devoutly praying. An affected little laugh from Miss Sikkum called attention to A

arded the gi

he lounge, ple

giggled Miss Sikkum enviously

or," Mr. Bolton'

lton!" from Mrs

ucky? Why should she be mad

hful of roast beef and Brussels sprouts. Everyone turned to the speaker, whos

p-Smythe to Miss Wangle in a whisper, audible to all.

ssels sprout that Mr. Cordal was conveyi

ton had once said he must be a "bear") he was, at Galvin H

Craske-Morton, rather outraged at this

Cordal vouchsafed as he sh

n your time, Mr. Cord

have meant anything, but in

he 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?

l Baun,

beside her, his face glowing in a way that hinted at a handsome tip. He was all-unconscious t

n the looaunge, m

sure of catching her before she went out. Patricia was once more conscious of the ridiculous behaviour of her h

stave, say we

Gustave proceeded

t. "He's bought Gustave, and in an hour he'

was galvanic. Each felt aggrieved that proper notice had not been given of so auspicious an event. There w

dies, and among the men a consciousness that the clot

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. Bo

and Providence, was dubious about the creases in his trousers; Mrs. Barnes wondered if the gallant colonel would discover the ink

e in the knowledge that "something had told her" to put on her best black silk and the

n't think it worth mentioning," said Patricia, conscious

e door than a veritable stampede ensued. Every one intended "just to slip upstairs for a mo

tful consideration for the young lovers; Mrs. Hamil

d 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 any

p and came towards her. There was a spiri

as they shook hands, "you

tricia, don

nd appeal in his voice. She was conscious that she was

since I saw you

nted Patricia, forgetful of all the rep

e fell on the carnations which G

ed, they're exquisite. They ma

Miss

n a settee. Bowen drew up a chair and sat opposite to her. She liked him f

atricia, are you?" There was

iculous with your telegrams, messenger-boys, conserv

unconscious gaucherie, "I simply c

atricia, the lightness of her words contr

ide for Patricias," he replied, "an

rant, as well as an aband

n, ignoring the second ques

ave sent me enough chocolates t

ricia!" h

, Colonel Bowen," she said pr

ey heard the man you're enga

gaged," said P

. "I can bring all these people her

e you going to play the game?" She awaited hi

nto her eyes until they

e mean, Patricia," he sai

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

ically, "they're all dressed

e than Patricia, as he turned round to gaze at th

tuckers for you," she cried. "Oh! pl

re 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

urage in both hands and donned the blue evening frock, to which she had added a pair of whit

ival, closely followed by Mr. Bolton. At the sight of Mr. Cordal Patricia started and bit her lower lip. He had assumed a vivid blue tie, and had obvious

s, 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 thread

nature of a wedding garment in honour of Patricia's fiancé. Miss Sikkum had selected a pea-green sati

It was Patricia wh

to her. "Er-er-they seem a

t. How would you like to live among them all? Why the

surprise. "Really!" was the

red and drew her towards Bowen. "Now I know what I meant. This dear little creature has never broken a commandment, I wouldn't mind betting everything I have, and she has never been uncharitable to anyon

lton." Then to Mrs. Hamilton. "You know all about Colonel Bowen, don't you, dear? H

up sweetly at Bowen,

he other end of the lounge. The scene rem

sed with the entry of Gustave, who sto

el Bowen, please, Gust

looked disappointed, Bowen looked at

said Patricia, holding out her

" bega

rforce to retreat towards the door. "See you again so

" he m

rogated Gust

down to the lounge after her tactful absence. For a moment she hesitated in obvious surprise, then, with

?" she interro

urned a

e making so short a call, or I would--" Mrs. Craske-Morton's paus

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 a

g he was pledged to give Patricia "a del

entirely unnecessary vigour. She was conscious that she was the best-hated girl in Bayswater, as she re

n her head, was also engaged in brushing her hair

in its drawer, and then as she locke