what was in the telegram.

At last Miss Wangle enquired, "No bad news I hope, Miss Brent."

Patricia looked up and fixed Miss Wangle with a deliberate stare, which
she meant to be rude.

"None, Miss Wangle, thank you," she replied coldly.

The dinner proceeded until the sweet was being served, when Gustave
approached her once more.

"You are wanted, mees, on the telephone, please," he said.

Patricia was conscious once more of crimsoning as she turned to
Gustave. "Please say that I'm engaged," she said.

Gustave left the dining-room. Everybody watched the door in a fever of
expectancy.

Two minutes later Gustave reappeared and, walking softly up to
Patricia's chair, whispered in a voice that could be clearly heard by
everyone, "It ees Colonel Baun, mees. He wish to speak to you."

"Tell him I'm at dinner," replied Patricia calmly. She could literally
hear the gasp that went round the table.

"But, Miss Brent," began Mrs. Craske-Morton.

Patricia turned and looked straight into Mrs. Craske-Morton's eyes
interrogatingly. Gustave hesitated. Mrs. Craske-Morton collapsed.
Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe exchanged meaning glances. Little
Mrs. Hamilton looked concerned, almost a little sad. Patricia turned
to Gustave.

"You heard, Gustave?"

"Yes, mees," replied Gustave and, turning reluctantly towards the door,
he disappeared.

There was something in Patricia's demeanour that made it clear she
would resent any comment on her action, and the meal continued in
silence. Mr. Bolton made some feeble endeavours to lighten the
atmosphere; but he was not successful.

In the lounge a quarter of an hour later, Gustave once more approached
Patricia, this time with a note.

"The boy ees waiting, mees," he announced.

Patricia tore open the envelope and read:

"DEAR PATRICIA,

"Won't you let me see you? Please remember that even the under-dog has
his rights.

"Yours ever,
"PETER."

"There is no answer, Gustave," said Patricia, and Gustave left the room
disconsolately.

Half an hour later Gustave returned once more.

On his tray were three telegrams. Patricia looked about her wildly.
"Had the man suddenly gone mad?" she asked herself. "Tell the boy not
to wait, Gustave," she said.

"There ees three boys, mees."

The atmosphere was electrical. Mr. Bolton laughed, then stopped
suddenly. Miss Sikkum simpered.

Patricia turned to Gustave with a calmness that was not reflected in
he