what you've heard," replied Patricia calmly.

"Patricia." Miss Brent invariably began her remarks by uttering the
name of the person whom she addressed. "Patricia, you know perfectly
well what I mean."

"I should know better, if you would tell me," murmured Patricia with a
patient sigh as she seated herself in the easiest of the uneasy chairs,
and proceeded to pull off her gloves.

"Patricia, I refer to these stories about your being engaged."

"Yes, Aunt Adelaide?"

"Have you nothing to say?"

"Nothing in particular. People get engaged, you know. I suppose it is
because they've got nothing else to do."

"Patricia, don't be frivolous."

"Frivolous! Me frivolous! Aunt Adelaide! If you were a secretary to
a brainless politician, who is supposed to rise, but who won't rise,
can't rise, and never will rise, from ten until five each day, for the
magnificent salary of two and a half guineas a week, even you wouldn't
be able to be frivolous."

"Patricia!" There was surprised disapproval in Miss Brent's voice.
"Are you mad?"

"No, Aunt Adelaide, just bored, just bored stiff." Patricia emphasised
the word "stiff" in a way that brought Miss Brent into an even more
upright position.

"Patricia, I wish you would change your idiom. Your flagrant vulgarity
would have deeply pained your poor, dear father."

Patricia made no response; she simply looked as she felt, unutterably
bored. She was incapable even of invention. Supposing she told her
aunt the whole story, at least she would have the joy of seeing the
look of horror that would overspread her features.

"Patricia," continued Miss Brent, "I repeat, what is this I hear about
your being engaged?"

"Oh!" replied Patricia indifferently, "I suppose you've heard the
truth; I've got engaged."

"Without telling me a word about it."

"Oh, well! those are nasty things, you know, that one doesn't
advertise."

"Patricia!"

"Well, aunt, you say that all men are beasts, and if you associate with
beasts, you don't like the world to know about it."

"Patricia!" repeated Miss Brent.

"Aunt Adelaide!" cried Patricia, "you make me feel that I absolutely
hate my name. I wish I'd been numbered. If you say 'Patricia' again I
shall scream."

"Is it true that you are engaged to Lord Peter Bowen?"

"Good Lord, no." Patricia sat up in astonishment.

"Then that woman in the lounge is a liar."

There was uncompromising conviction in Miss Brent's tone.

Patr