time they were silent. Patricia was content to enjoy the
unaccustomed sense of swift movement coupled with the feeling of the
luxury of a Rolls Royce. From time to time Bowen glanced at her and
smiled, and she was conscious of returning the smile, although in the
light of what she intended to say she felt that smiles were not
appropriate.

The car sped along the Bayswater Road, threaded its way through
Hammersmith Broadway and passed over the bridge, across Barnes Common
into Priory Lane, and finally into Richmond Park. Bowen had not
mentioned where he intended to take her, and Patricia was glad. She
was essentially feminine, and liked having things decided for her, the
more so as she invariably had to decide for herself.

Half-way across the Park Bowen turned in the direction of Kingston Gate
and, a minute later, drew up just off the roadway. Having stopped the
engine he turned to her.

"Now, Patricia," he said with a smile, "I am at your mercy. There is
no one within hail."

Bowen's voice recalled her from dreamland. She was thinking how
different everything might have been, but for that unfortunate
unconvention. With an effort she came down to earth to find Bowen
smiling into her eyes.

It was an effort for her to assume the indignation she had previously
felt. Bowen's presence seemed to dissipate her anger. Why had she not
written to him instead of endeavouring to express verbally what she
knew she would fail to convey?

"Please don't be too hard on me, Patricia," pleaded Bowen.

Patricia looked at him. She wished he would not smile at her in that
way and assume an air of penitence. It was so disarming. It was
unfair. He was taking a mean advantage. He was always taking a mean
advantage of her, always putting her in the wrong.

By keeping her face carefully averted from his, she was able to tinge
her voice with indignation as she demanded:

"Why did you not tell me who you were?"

"But I did," he protested.

"You said that you were Colonel Bowen, and you are not." Patricia was
pleased to find her sense of outraged indignation increasing. "You
have made me ridiculous in the eyes of everyone at Galvin House."

"But," protested Bowen.

"It's no good saying 'but,'" replied Patricia unreasonably, "you know
I'm right."

"But I told you my name was Bowen," he said, "and later I told you that
my rank was that of a lieutenant-colonel, both of which are quite
correct."

"You are Lord Pet