r this.

"That's right, me dear!" he said at length. "Never you marry except
you feel you can't 'elp it, then you'll know it's the right one. Don't
you marry a chap because he's got a lot of brass. You marry for the
same reason that me and my missis married, because we felt we couldn't
do without each other," and the old man's voice grew husky. "You
wouldn't believe it, me dear, 'ow I miss 'er, though she's been dead
eight years next May."

Patricia had been deeply touched and, not knowing what to say, had
stretched out her hand to the old man, who took and held it for a
moment in his. As she drew her hand away she felt a tear splash upon
it, and it was not her own.

"Ever hear that song 'My Old Dutch'?" he asked after a lengthy silence.

Patricia nodded.

"I used to sing it to 'er--God bless my soul! what an old fool I'm
gettin', talkin' to you in this way. Now I must be gettin' off. Lor!
what would 'Ettie say if she knew?"

But Mrs. Bonsor did not know.

CHAPTER III

THE ADVENTURE AT THE QUADRANT GRILL-ROOM

That evening as Patricia looked in at the lounge on the way to her
room, she found it unusually crowded. On a normal day her appearance
would scarcely have been noticed; but this evening it was the signal
for a sudden cessation in the buzz of conversation, and all eyes were
upon her. For a moment she stood in the doorway and then, with a nod
and a smile, she turned and proceeded upstairs, conscious of the
whispering that broke out as soon as her back was turned.

As she stood before the mirror, wondering what she should wear for the
night's adventure, she recalled a remark of Miss Wangle's that no
really nice-minded woman ever dressed in black and white unless she had
some ulterior motive. Upon the subject of sex-attraction Miss Wangle
posed as an authority, and hinted darkly at things that thrilled Miss
Sikkum to ecstatic giggles, and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe to pianissimo
moans of anguish that such things could be.

With great deliberation Patricia selected a black charmeuse costume
that Miss Wangle had already confided to the whole of Galvin House was
at least two and a half inches too short; but as Patricia had explained
to Mrs. Hamilton, if you possess exquisitely fitting patent boots that
come high up the leg, it's a sin for the skirt to be too long. She
selected a black velvet hat with a large white water-lily on the upper
brim.

"You look bad enough for a vicar's daughter," she