r cheeks.

"Tell the three boys not to wait, Gustave."

"Yes, mees!" Gustave slowly walked to the door. It was clear that he
could not reconcile with his standard of ethics the allowing of three
telegrams to remain unopened, and to dismiss three boys without knowing
whether or no there really were replies. The same feeling was
reflected in the faces of Patricia's fellow-boarders.

"Miss Brent must be losing a lot of relatives, or coming into a lot of
fortunes," remarked Mr. Bolton to Mrs. Hamilton.

Patricia preserved an outward calm she was far from feeling. She rose
and went up to her room to discover from the three orange envelopes
what was the latest phase of Colonel Bowen's madness. Seated on her
bed she opened the telegrams.

The first read:

"Will you go motoring with me on Sunday peter."

No, she would do nothing of the kind.

The second said:

"If I have done anything to offend you please tell me and forgive me
peter."

Of course he had done nothing, and it was all very absurd. Why was he
behaving like a schoolboy?

The third was longer. It ran:

"I so enjoyed last night it was the most delightful evening I have
spent for many a day please do not be too hard upon me peter."

This was a tactical error. It brought back to Patricia the whole
incident. It was utter folly to have placed herself in such an
impossible position. Obviously Bowen knew nothing of women, or he
would not have made such a blunder as to remind her of what took place
on the previous night, unless--unless---- She hardly dare breathe the
thought to herself. What if he thought her different from what she
actually was? Could he confuse her with those---- It was impossible!

She was angry; angry with him, angry with herself, angry with the
Quadrant Grill-room; but angriest of all with Galvin House, which had
precipitated her into this adventure.

Why did silly women expect every girl to marry? Why was it assumed
because a woman did not marry that no one wanted to marry her?
Patricia regarded herself in the looking-glass. Was she really the
sort of girl who might be taken for an inveterate old maid? Her hands
and feet were small. Her ankles well-shaped. Her figure had been
praised, even by women. Her hair was a natural red-auburn. Her
features regular, her mouth mobile, well-shaped with very red lips.
Her eyes a violet-blue with long dark lashes and eyebrows.

"You're not so bad, Patricia Brent," she remarke