a holiday," Lady Tanagra looked up
quizzically at Patricia as she stood gazing out of the window.

"A holiday!" repeated Patricia, looking round.

"It sounded just a little depressing," said Lady Tanagra.

"It will be exactly what it sounds," Patricia retorted; "only
depressing is not quite the right word, it's too polite. You don't
know what it is to be lonely, Tanagra, and live at Galvin House, and
try to haul or push a politician into a rising posture. It reminds me
of Carlyle on the Dutch." There was a note of fierce protest in her
voice. "You have all the things that I want, and I wonder I don't
scratch your face and tear your hair out. We are all primitive in our
instincts really." Then she laughed. "Well! I had to cry out to
someone, and I shall feel better. It's rather a beastly world for some
of us, you know; but I suppose I ought to be spanked for being
ungrateful."

"Do you know why I've come?" enquired Lady Tanagra, thinking it wise to
change the subject.

Patricia shook her head. "A more conceited person might have suggested
that it was to see me," she said demurely.

"To apologise for Peter," said Lady Tanagra. "He disobeyed orders and
I am very angry with him."

Patricia flushed at the memory of their good-night. For a few seconds
she stood silent, looking out of the window.

"I think it was rather sweet of him," she said without looking round.

Lady Tanagra smiled slightly. "Then I may forgive him, you think?" she
enquired.

Patricia turned and looked at her. Lady Tanagra met the gaze
innocently.

"He wanted to write to you and send some flowers and chocolates; but I
absolutely forbade it. We almost had our first quarrel," she added
mendaciously.

For the space of a second Patricia hated Lady Tanagra. She would have
liked to turn and rend her for interfering in a matter that could not
possibly be regarded as any concern of hers. The feeling, however, was
only momentary and, when Lady Tanagra rose to go, Patricia was as
cordial as ever.

From Galvin House Lady Tanagra drove to the Quadrant.

"Peter!" she cried as she entered the room and threw herself into an
easy chair, "if ever I again endeavour to divert true love from its
normal----"

"How is she?"' interrupted Bowen.

"Now you've spoiled it," cried Lady Tanagra, "and it was----"

"Spoiled what?" demanded Bowen.

"My beautiful phrase about true love and its normal channel, and I have
been saying it over to my