ricia had formed the habit of
dressing for dinner. She made neither excuse nor explanation to
herself as to why she did so. Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe,
however, had covertly remarked upon the fact; but Patricia had ignored
them. She had reached that state in her psychological development when
she neither explained nor denied things.

With delicacy and insight Providence has withheld from woman the
uncomfortable quality of introspection. Had Patricia subjected her
actions to the rigid test of reason, she would have found them
strangely at variance with her determination. With a perversity
characteristic of her sex, she forbade Bowen to see her, and then spent
hours in speculating as to when and how he would disobey her. A parcel
in the hall at Galvin House sent the colour flooding to her cheeks,
whilst Gustave, entering the lounge, bearing his flamboyant
nickle-plated apology for the conventional silver salver, set her heart
thumping with expectation.

As the day on which Bowen was to dine at Galvin House drew near, the
excitement became intense, developing into a panic when the day itself
dawned. All were wondering how this or that garment would turn out
when actually worn, and those who were not in difficulties with their
clothes were troubled about their manners. At Galvin House manners
were things that were worn, like a gardenia or a patent hook-and-eye.
Patricia had once explained to an uncomprehending Aunt Adelaide that
Galvin House had more manners than breeding.

On the Friday evening when Patricia returned to Galvin House, Gustave
was in the hall.

"Oh, mees!" he involuntarily exclaimed.

Patricia waited for more; but after a moment of hesitation, Gustave
disappeared along the hall as if there were nothing strange in his
conduct, leaving Patricia staring after him in surprise.

At that moment Mrs. Craske-Morton bustled out of the lounge, full of an
unwonted importance.

"Oh, Miss Brent!" she exclaimed. "I am so glad you've come. I have a
few friends coming to dinner this evening and we are dressing."
Without waiting for a reply Mrs. Craske-Morton turned and disappeared
along the passage leading to the servants' regions.

At that moment Mr. Bolton appeared at the top of the stairs in his
shirt sleeves; but at the sight of Patricia he turned and bolted
precipitately out of sight.

Patricia walked slowly upstairs and along the corridor to her room,
unconscious that each door she pass