d have fallen to the floor, her legs refusing further to support
her body. She was trembling all over. Miss Wangle had selected the
next table. Patricia was conscious of hoping that somewhere in the
next world Miss Wangle's sufferings would transcend those of Dives as a
hundred to one.

As she was pulling off her gloves her companion held a low-toned
colloquy with the waiter. She stole a glance at him. What must he be
thinking? How had he classified her? Her heart was pounding against
her ribs as if determined to burst through.

Suddenly she remembered that the others were watching and, leaning upon
the table, she said:

"Please pretend to be very pleased to see me. We must talk a lot. You
know--you know--" then she turned aside in confusion; but with an
effort she said, "You--you are supposed to be my fiance, and you've
just come back from France, and--and---- Oh! what are you thinking of
me? Please--please----" she broke off.

Very gravely and with smiling eyes he replied, "I quite understand.
Please don't worry. Something has happened, and if I can do anything
to help, you have only to tell me. My name is Bowen, and I'm just back
from France."

"Are you a major?" enquired Patricia, to whom stars and crowns meant
nothing.

"I'm afraid I'm a lieutenant-colonel," he replied, "on the Staff."

"Oh! what a pity," said Patricia, "I said you were a major."

"Couldn't you say I've been promoted?"

Patricia clapped her hands. "Oh! how splendid! Of course! You see I
said that you were Major Brown, I can easily tell them that they
misunderstood and that it was Major Bowen. They are such awful cats,
and if they found out I should have to leave. You see that's some of
them at the next table there. That's Miss Wangle with the lorgnettes
and the other woman is Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, who is her echo, and the
man is Mr. Bolton. He's nothing in particular."

"I see," said Bowen.

"And--and--of course you've got to pretend to be most awfully glad to
see me. You see we haven't met for a long time and--and--we're
engaged."

"I quite understand," was the reply.

Then suddenly Patricia caught his eye and saw the smile in it.

"Oh, how dreadful!" she cried. "Of course you don't know anything
about it. I'm talking like a schoolgirl. You see my name's Patricia,
Patricia Brent," and then she plunged into the whole story, telling him
frankly of her escapade. He was strangely easy to talk to.

"And--and