se 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," protested Bowen. "She----"

"Tell her the story of our acquaintance," replied Patricia coldly. "I
think that will effectually 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!" 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 reflection 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 LORD

The effect of _The Morning Post_ announcement upon Galvin House had
been little short of sensational. Although all were aware of the
engagement, to see the announcement in print seemed to arouse them to a
point of enthusiasm. Everyone from the servants upwards possessed a
copy of _The Morning Post_, with the single exception of Mrs. Barnes,
who had mislaid hers and made everybody's life a misery by insisting on
examining their copy to make quite sure that they had not taken hers by
mistake.

Had not Patricia been so preoccupied, she could not have failed to
notice the atmosphere of suppressed excitement at Galvin House. Many
glances were directed at her, glances of superior knowledge, of which
she was entirely unconscious. Woman-like she never paused to ask
herself what she really felt or what she really meant. Her thoughts
ran in a circle, coming back inevitably to the maddening question,
"What does he really think of me?" Why had Fate been so unkind as to
undermine a possible friendship with that damning introduction? After
all, she would ask herself indifferently, what did it matter? Bowen
was nothing to her. Then back again her thoughts would rush to the
inevitable question, what did he really think?

Since the night of her adventure, Pat