no question of special preparations.

About ten o'clock Gustave entered and approached Patricia. She groaned
in spirit.

"You are wanted on the telephone, mees."

Patricia thought she detected a note of reproach in his voice, as if he
were conscious that a fellow-male was being badly treated.

"Will you say that I'm engaged?" replied Patricia.

"It's Colonel Baun, mees."

For a moment Patricia hesitated. She was conscious that Galvin House
was against her to a woman. After all there were limits beyond which
it would be unwise to go. Galvin House had its standards, which had
already been sorely tried. Patricia felt rather than heard the
whispered criticism passing between Miss Wangle and Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe. Rising slowly with an air of reconciled martyrdom,
Patricia went to the telephone at the end of the hall, followed by the
smiling Gustave, who, like the rest of Galvin House, had found his
sense of decorum sorely outraged by Patricia's conduct.

"Hullo!" cried Patricia into the mouthpiece of the telephone, her heart
thumping ridiculously.

Gustave walked tactfully away.

"That you, Patricia?" came the reply.

Patricia was conscious that all her anger had vanished.

"Yes, who is speaking?"

"Peter."

"Yes."

"How are you?"

"Did you ring me up to ask after my health?"

There was a laugh at the other end.

"Well!" enquired Patricia, who knew she was behaving like a schoolgirl.

"Did you get my message?"

"I'm very angry."

"Why?"

"Because you've made me ridiculous with your telegrams, messenger-boys,
and telephoning."

"May I call?"

"No."

"I'm coming to-morrow night."

"I shall be out."

"Then I'll wait until you return."

"Are you playing the game, do you think?"

"I must see you. Expect me about nine."

"I shall do nothing of the sort."

"Please don't be angry, Patricia."

"Well! you mustn't come, then. Thank you for the chocolates and
flowers."

"That's all right. Don't forget to-morrow at nine."

"I tell you I shall be out."

"Right-oh!"

"Good-bye!"

Without waiting for a reply, Patricia hung up the receiver.

When she returned to the lounge her cheeks were flushed, and she was
feeling absurdly happy. Then a moment after she asked herself what it
was to her whether he remembered or forgot her. He was an entire
stranger--or at least he ought to be.

Just as she was going up to her room for the night, another telegram
arrived. It contained three