self all the way from Galvin House." She
looked reproachfully at her brother.

"How's Patricia?" demanded Bowen eagerly.

"Fair to moderately fair, rain later, I should describe her," replied
Lady Tanagra, helping herself to a cigarette which Bowen lighted.
"She's going away."

"Good heavens! Where?" cried Bowen.

"Eastbourne."

"When?"

"To-morrow."

"Damn!"

"My dear Peter," remarked Lady Tanagra lazily, "this primitive
profanity ill becomes----"

"Please don't rot me, Tan," he pleaded. "I've had a rotten time
lately."

There was helpless and hopeless pain in Bowen's voice that caused Lady
Tanagra to spring up from her chair and go over to him.

"Carry on, old boy," she cried softly, as she caressed his coat-sleeve.
"It's your only chance. You're going to win."

"I must see her!" blurted out Bowen.

"If you do you'll spoil everything," announced Lady Tanagra with
conviction.

"But, last night," began Bowen and paused.

"Last night, I think," said Lady Tanagra, "was a master-stroke. She is
touched; it's taken us forward at least a week."

"But look here, Tan," said Bowen gloomily, "you told me to leave it all
in your hands and you make me treat her rottenly, then you say----"

"That you know about as much of how to make a woman like Patricia fall
in love with you as an ostrich does of geology," said Lady Tanagra
calmly.

"But what will she think?" demanded Bowen.

"At present she is thinking that Eastbourne will be a nightmare of
loneliness."

"I'll run down and see her," announced Bowen.

"If you do, Peter!" There was a note of warning in Lady Tanagra's
voice.

"All right," he conceded gloomily. "I'll give you another week, and
then I'll go my own way."

"Peter, if you were smaller and I were bigger I think I should spank
you," laughed Lady Tanagra. Then with great seriousness she said, "I
want you to marry her, and I'm going the only way to work to make her
let you. Do try and trust me, Peter."

Bowen looked down at her with a smile, touched by the look in her eyes.
For a moment his arm rested across her shoulders. Then he pushed her
towards the door. "Clear out, Tan. I'm not fit for a bear-pit
to-night."

The Bowens were never demonstrative with one another.

For half an hour Bowen sat smoking one cigarette after another until he
was interrupted by the entrance of Peel, who, after a comprehensive
glance round the room, proceeded to administer here and there those
de