a looked into the hard, cold eyes of her aunt, she believed
her. At that moment Miss Brent looked as if she represented all the
aggressive 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
expect 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 of humour and your
courage at the same time, you have lost the game."

For a moment Patricia paused, deliberating what she would do. Finally,
she walked to the telephone at the end of the hall. There was a
grimness about her look indicative of a set purpose, taking down the
receiver she called "Gerrard 60000."

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 from the other end of the wire.

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

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

"What I've just said."

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

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

"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 you at Lancaster Gate tube
at twenty minutes to nine."

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

For a moment Patricia hesita