bus but at the entrance of
the lounge she saw Gustave who ingratiatingly enquired, "Taxi, mees?"

With a smile she nodded her head, and Gustave disappeared. "There goes
another two shillings. Oh, bother Major Brown! Soldiers are costly
luxuries," she muttered under her breath.

A moment after Gustave reappeared with the intimation that the taxi was
at the door. A group of her fellow-guests gathered in the hall to see
her off. Patricia thought their attitude more appropriate to a wedding
than the fact that one of their fellow-boarders was going out to
dinner. "It is clear," she thought, "that Patricia Brent, man-catcher,
is a much more important person than is Patricia Brent, inveterate
spinster."

She noticed that there was a second taxi at the door, and while her own
driver was "winding-up" his machine, which took some little time, the
other taxi got off in front. She had seen get into it Miss Wangle,
Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, and Mr. Bolton.

As the taxi sped eastward, Patricia began to speculate as to what she
really intended doing. She had no appointment, she was in a taxi which
would cost her two shillings at least, and she had given the address of
the Quadrant Grill-room.

She was still considering what she should do when the taxi drew up.
Fate and the taxi driver had decided the matter between them, and
Patricia determined to go through with it and disappoint neither.
Having paid the man and tipped him handsomely, she descended the stairs
to the Grill-room. She had no idea of what it cost to dine at the
Quadrant; but remembered with a comfortable feeling that she had some
two pounds upon her. With moderation, she decided, it might be
possible to get a meal for that sum without attracting the adverse
criticism of the staff. It had not struck her that it might appear
strange for a girl to dine alone at such a restaurant as the Quadrant,
and that she was laying herself open to criticism. She was too excited
at this new adventure into which she had been precipitated for careful
reasoning.

As she descended the stairs she caught a glimpse of herself in a
mirror. She started. Surely that could not be Patricia Brent,
secretary to a rising politician, that stylish-looking girl in black,
with a large bunch of carnations. That red-haired creature with
sparkling eyes and a colour that seemed to have caught the reflection
of the carnations in her belt!

She entered the lounge at the foot of the stairs wi