regarded her with an
enigmatical smile that made her fidget.

"How clever of you, Miss Wangle," she said sweetly. "In future no one
will ever dare to have a secret at Galvin House."

Miss Wangle reddened. Mr. Bolton's laugh rang out.

"Miss Wangle, Private Enquiry Agent," he cried, "I----"

"Really, Mr. Bolton!" protested Mrs. Craske-Morton, looking anxiously
at Miss Wangle's indrawn lips and angry eyes.

Mr. Bolton subsided.

"We're so excited, dear Miss Brent," simpered Miss Sikkum. "You'll be
Lady Bowen----"

"Lady Peter Bowen," corrected Mrs. Craske-Morton with superior
knowledge.

"Lady Peter," gushed Miss Sikkum. "Oh how romantic, and I shall see
your portrait in _The Mirror_. Oh! Miss Brent, aren't you happy?"

Patricia smiled across at Miss Sikkum, whose enthusiasm was too genuine
to cause offence.

"And you'll have cars and all sorts of things," remarked Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe, thinking of he solitary blue evening frock, "he's very
rich."

"Worth ten thousand a year," almost shouted Mr. Cordal, striving to
regain control over a piece of lettuce-leaf that fluttered from his
lips, and having eventually to use his fingers.

"You'll forget all about us," said Miss Pilkington, who in her capacity
as a post-office supervisor daily showed her contempt for the public
whose servant she was.

"If you're nice to her," said Mr. Bolton, "she may buy her stamps at
your place."

Again Mrs. Craske-Morton's "Really, Mr. Bolton!" eased the situation.

Patricia was for the most part silent. She was thinking of the coming
talk with Bowen. In spite of herself she was excited at the prospect
of seeing him again. Miss Wangle also said little. From time to time
she glanced in Patricia's direction.

"The Wangle's off her feed," whispered Mr. Bolton to Miss Sikkum,
producing from her a giggle and an "Oh! Mr. Bolton, you _are_
dreadful."

Mrs. Barnes was worrying as to whether a lord should be addressed as
"my lord" or "sir," and if you curtsied to him, and if so how you did
it with rheumatism in the knee.

Patricia noticed with amusement the new deference with which everyone
treated her. Mrs. Craske-Morton, in particular, was most solicitous
that she should make a good meal. Miss Wangle's silence was in itself
a tribute. Patricia nervously waited the moment when Bowen's presence
should be announced.

When the time came Gustave rose to the occasion magnificently.
Throwing open the dining-room door i