"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, Patricia. London has done you
no good. What would your poor dear father have said?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Adelaide; but please remember 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 surviving relative,"
repeated Miss Brent, "it is my duty to look after your welfare."

"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!" 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 was more than a spice of curiosity
in her look.

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