er stockings. There
was a gentle tapping at her door, not the peremptory summons that had
awakened her and which, by the voice that had accompanied it, she
recognised as that of Mrs. Craske-Morton.

"What is it?" she called out.

"It's me, mees." Patricia could scarcely recognise in the terrified
accents the voice of Gustave. "It's a raid. Oh! mees, please come
down."

"All right, Gustave. I shall be down in a minute," replied Patricia,
and she heard a flurry of retreating footsteps. Gustave was descending
to safety. There was about him nothing of the Roman sentry.

Patricia proceeded with her toilette, hastened, in spite of herself, by
a tremendous crash which she recognised as a bomb.

At Galvin House "Raid Instructions" had been posted in each room.
Guests were instructed to hasten with all possible speed downstairs to
the basement-kitchen, where tea and coffee would be served and, if
necessary, bandages and first-aid applied. Miss Sikkum had made a
superficial study of Red Cross work from a shilling manual but as,
according to her own confession, she fainted at the sight of blood, no
very great reliance was placed in her ministrations.

As Patricia entered the kitchen her first inclination was to laugh at
the amazing variety, not only of toilettes, but of expressions that met
her eyes. Self-confident in the knowledge that she was fully dressed,
she looked about her with interest.

"Oh, here you are, Miss Brent!" exclaimed Mrs. Craske-Morton, who was
busily engaged in preparing the tea and coffee of the "Raid
Instructions." "Gustave would insist on going up to call you a second
time. We were----" Mrs. Craske-Morton broke off her sentence and
dashed for the gas-stove, where the milk was boiling over.

"Oh, mees!" Patricia turned to Gustave. She bit her lip fiercely to
restrain the laugh that bubbled up at the sight of the major-domo of
Galvin House.

Above a pair of black trousers, tucked in the tops of unlaced boots,
and from which the braces flapped aimlessly, was visible the upper part
of a red flannel night-shirt. The remainder was bestowed beneath the
upper part of the trousers, giving to his figure a curiously knobbly
appearance. His face was leaden-coloured and his upstanding hair more
erect than ever, whilst in his eyes was Fear.

He was trembling in every limb, and his jaw shook as he uttered his
expression of relief at the sight of Patricia. She smiled at him, then
suddenly reme