ntment on his face. "Didn't Jacob
serve seven years for Rachel?"

"Yes, and got the wrong girl then," broke in Mr. Bolton. "You'll have
to be careful, Miss Brent, or Miss Sikkum will get ahead of you."

"Really, Mr. Bolton!" said Mrs. Craske-Morton, looking anxiously at
Bowen.

Miss Sikkum's cheeks had assumed the same tint as her nose, and her
eyes were riveted upon her plate. Miss Pilkington muttered something
under her breath about Mr. Bolton's remark being outrageous.

"I think we'll take coffee in the lounge," said Mrs. Craske-Morton,
rising. Turning to Bowen, she added, "We follow the American custom,
Lord Peter, the gentlemen always leave the dining-room with the ladies."

There was a pushing back of chairs and a shuffling of feet and Galvin
House rose from its repast.

"Coffee will not be served for half an hour, and if you and Miss Brent
would like to--to----"

Mrs. Craske-Morton paused significantly. "My boudoir is at your
service."

Bowen looked at her and then at Patricia. He saw the flush on her
cheeks and the humiliation in her eyes.

"I think we should much prefer not to interrupt our pleasant
conversation. What do you say, Patricia?" he enquired, turning to
Patricia, who smiled her acquiescence.

They all trooped into the lounge, where everybody except Patricia,
Bowen and Mrs. Craske-Morton stood about in awkward poses. The arrival
of Gustave with coffee relieved the tension.

For the next hour each guest endeavoured to attract to himself or
herself Bowen's attention, and each was disappointed when at length he
rose to go and shook hands only with Mrs. Craske-Morton, including the
others in a comprehensive bow. Still more were they disappointed and
surprised when Patricia did not go out into the hall to see him off.

"Oh, Miss Brent!" simpered Miss Sikkum, "aren't you going to say good
night to him?"

"Good night!" interrogated Patricia, "but I did."

"Yes; but I mean----" began Miss Sikkum.

"Oh, you know," she said with a simper, but Patricia had passed over to
a chair, where she seated herself and began to read a newspaper upside
down.

Miss Sikkum's romantic soul had received a shock.

CHAPTER XV

MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA IN KENSINGTON GARDENS

I

"Well, me dear, 'ow goes it?"

Mr. Triggs flooded the room with his genial person, mopping his brow
with a large bandana handkerchief, and blowing a cheerful protest
against the excessive heat.

Patricia looked up