as one of the most cherished
traditions of Galvin House.

"He must have plenty of money," remarked Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe to Miss
Wangle in a whisper, audible to all. "Those flowers and chocolates
must have cost a lot."

"Ten pounds." The remark met a large Brussels sprout that Mr. Cordal
was conveying to his mouth and summarily ejected it.

As Mr. Cordal was something on the Stock Exchange (Mr. Bolton had once
said he must be a "bear") he was, at Galvin House, the recognised
authority upon all matters of finance.

"Really, Mr. Cordal!" expostulated Mrs. Craske-Morton, rather outraged
at this open discussion of Patricia's affairs.

"Sure of it," was all Mr. Cordal vouchsafed as he shovelled in another
mouthful.

"You've been a goer in your time, Mr. Cordal," said Mr. Bolton.

Mr. Cordal grunted, which may have meant anything, but in all
probability meant nothing.

For a quarter of an hour the inane conversation so characteristic of
meal-times at Galvin House continued without interruption. How
Patricia hated it. Was this all that life held for her? Was she
always to be a drudge to the Bonsors, a victim of the Wangles and a
target for the Boltons of life? It was to escape such drab existences
that girls went on the stage, or worse; and why not? She had only one
life, so far as she knew, and here she was sacrificing it to the jungle
people, as she called them. Was there no escape? What St. George
would rescue her from this dragon of----?

"Colonel Baun, mees."

Patricia looked up with a start from the apple tart with which she was
trifling. Gustave stood beside her, his face glowing in a way that
hinted at a handsome tip. He was all-unconscious that he had answered
a very difficult question in a manner entirely unsatisfactory to
Patricia.

"I haf show him in the looaunge, mees. He will wait."

Patricia believed him. Was ever man so persistent? She saw through
the move. He had come an hour earlier to be sure of catching her
before she went out. Patricia was once more conscious of the
ridiculous behaviour of her heart. It thumped and pounded against her
ribs as if determined to compromise her with the rest of the boarders.

"Very well, Gustave, say we are at dinner."

"Yes, mees," and Gustave proceeded with his duties.

"He's clever," was Patricia's inward comment. "He's bought Gustave,
and in an hour he'll have the whole blessed place against me."

If the effect upon Patricia of Gustave