of life and movement, cars were throbbing and
passing to and fro, and men's voices could be heard. Suddenly there
was a loud peal of the street-door bell. All looked at each other in
consternation. Gustave looked about him as if he had lost a puppy.
Mrs. Craske-Morton looked at Gustave.

"Gustave!" said Patricia, surprised at her own calm.

Gustave looked at her for a moment then, remembering his duties, went
slowly to the door, listening the while as if expecting a further
bombardment to break out. With the exception of Miss Wangle and the
cook, everybody was on the qui vive of expectation.

"It's the police," suggested Mrs. Craske-Morton, with conviction.

"Or the ambulance," ventured Miss Sikkum in a trembling voice.
"They're collecting the dead," she added optimistically.

All eyes were riveted upon the kitchen door. Steps were heard
descending the stairs. A moment later the door was thrown open and
Gustave in a voice strangely unlike his own announced:

"'Ees Lordship, madame."

Bowen entered the kitchen and cast a swift look about him. A light of
relief passed over his face as he saw Patricia. Some instinct that she
could neither explain nor control caused her to go over to him, and
before she knew what was taking place both her hands were in his.

"Thank God!" he breathed. "I was afraid it was this house. I heard a
bomb had dropped here. Oh, my dear! I've been in hell!"

There was something in his voice that thrilled her as she had never
been thrilled before. She looked up at him smiling, then suddenly with
a great content she remembered that she had dressed herself with care.

Bowen looked about him, and seeing Mrs. Craske-Morton, went over and
shook hands.

"She's a regular heroine, Peter," said Patricia, unconscious that she
had used his name. "She's been so splendid."

Mrs. Craske-Morton smiled at Patricia, again her human smile.

"Oh! go away, make him go away!" It was Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe who
spoke. Her words had an electrifying effect upon everyone. Miss
Wangle sat up and made feverish endeavours to straighten her wig.
Jenny, the housemaid, looked round for cover that was nowhere
available. The cook became aware of her lack of clothing. Miss Sikkum
strove to minimise the exhibition of feminine bone-structure. Mrs.
Barnes made a dive for Mr. Bolton, who was still holding various of her
garments that he had retrieved. These she seized from him as if he had
been a pickpocke