Patricia Brent, Spinster Part 28

Bowen opened the door of the morning-room. Mrs. Bonsor was in the hall. Patricia walked over to the library, leaving Bowen in Mrs.

Bonsor's clutches.

"Oh, Lord Peter!" Mrs. Bonsor gushed. "I hope you and Miss Brent will dine with us----"

Patricia shut the library door without waiting to hear Bowen's reply.

At five o'clock she gave up the unequal struggle with infant mortality statistics and walked listlessly across the Park to Galvin House. She was tired and dispirited. It was the weather, she told herself, London in June could be very trying, then there had been all that fuss over _The Morning Post_ announcement. At Galvin House she knew the same ordeal was awaiting her that she had pa.s.sed through at Eaton Square.

Mrs. Craske-Morton would be effusive, Miss w.a.n.gle would unbend, Miss Sikk.u.m would simper, Mr. Bolton would be facetious, and all the others would be exactly what they had been all their lives, only a little more so as a result of _The Morning Post_ paragraph.

Only the fact of Miss w.a.n.gle taking breakfast in bed had saved Patricia from the ordeal at breakfast. Miss w.a.n.gle was the only resident at Galvin House who regularly took _The Morning Post_, it being "the dear bishop's favourite paper."

Arrived at Galvin House Patricia went straight to her room. Dashing past Gustave, who greeted her with "Oh, mees!" struggling at the same time to extract from his pocket a newspaper. Patricia felt that she should scream. Had everyone in Galvin House bought a copy of that day's _Morning Post_, and would they all bring it out of their pockets and point out the pa.s.sage to her? She sighed wearily.

Suddenly she jumped up from the bed where she had thrown herself, seized her writing-case and proceeded to write feverishly. At the end of half an hour she read and addressed three letters, stamping two of them. The first was to the editor of _The Morning Post_, and ran:--

"DEAR SIR,

"In your issue of to-day's date you make an announcement regarding a marriage having been arranged between Lord Peter Bowen and myself, which is entirely inaccurate.

"I am given to understand that this announcement was inserted on the authority of my aunt, Miss Adelaide Brent, and I must leave you to take what action you choose in relation to her. As for myself, I will ask you to be so kind as to insert a contradiction of the statement in your next issue.

"I am, "Yours faithfully, "PATRICIA BRENT."

Patricia always prided herself on the business-like quality of her letters.

The second letter was to Miss Brent. It ran:--

"DEAR AUNT ADELAIDE,

"I have written to the editor of _The Morning Post_ informing him that he must take such action as he sees fit against you for inserting your unauthorised statement that a marriage has been arranged between Lord Peter Bowen and me. It may interest you to know that the engagement has been broken off as a result of your impulsive and ill-advised action. Personally I think you have rather presumed on being my 'sole surviving relative.'

"Your affectionate niece, "PATRICIA."

The third letter was to Bowen.

"DEAR LORD PETER,

"I have written to the editor of _The Morning Post_, asking him to contradict the inaccurate statement published in to-day's issue. I am consumed with humiliation that such a thing should have been sent to him by a relative of mine, more particularly by a 'sole surviving relative.' My aunt unfortunately epitomises in her personality all the least desirable characteristics to be found in relatives.

"I cannot tell you how sorry I am about--oh, everything! If you really want to save me from feeling thoroughly ashamed of myself you will not only forget me, but also a certain incident.

"You have done me a great honour, I know, and you will add to it a great service if you will do as I ask and forget all about a folly that I have had cause bitterly to regret.

"Please forgive me for not dining with you to-night and for breaking my word; but I am feeling very unwell and tired and I have gone to bed.

"Yours sincerely, "PATRICIA BRENT."

Patricia's plan was to post the letters to Aunt Adelaide and _The Morning Post_, and leave the other with Gustave to be given to Bowen when he called, she would then shut herself in her room and plead a headache as an excuse for not being disturbed. Thus she would escape Miss w.a.n.gle and her waves of interrogation.

As Patricia descended the stairs, Gustave was in the act of throwing open the door to Lady Tanagra. It was too late to retreat.

"Ah! there you are," exclaimed Lady Tanagra as she pa.s.sed the respectful Gustave in the hall.

Patricia descended the remaining stairs slowly and with dragging steps.

Lady Tanagra looked at her sharply.

"Aren't we a nuisance?" cried she. "There's nothing more persistent in nature than a Bowen. Bruce's spider is quite a parochial affair in comparison," and she laughed lightly.

Patricia smiled as she welcomed Lady Tanagra. For a moment she hesitated at the door of the lounge, then with a sudden movement she turned towards the stairs.

"Come up to my room," she said, "we can talk there."

There was no cordiality in her voice. Lady Tanagra noticed that she looked worn-out and ill. Once the bedroom door was closed she turned to Patricia.

"My poor Patricia! whatever is the matter? You look thoroughly done up. Now lie down on the bed like a good girl, and I will a.s.sume my best bedside manner."

Patricia shook her head wearily, and indicating a chair by the window, seated herself upon the bed.

"I'm afraid I am rather tired," she said. "I was just going to lock myself up for the night."

"Now I'm going to cheer you up," cried Lady Tanagra. "Was there ever a more tactless way of beginning, but I've got something to tell you that is so exquisitely funny that it would cheer up an oyster, or even a radical."

"First," said Patricia, "I think I should like you to read these letters." Slowly and wearily she ripped open the three letters and handed them to Lady Tanagra, who read them through slowly and deliberately. This done, she folded each carefully, returned it to its envelope and handed them to Patricia.

"Well!" said Patricia.

Lady Tanagra smiled. Reaching across to the dressing-table she took a cigarette from Patricia's box and proceeded to light it. Patricia watched her curiously.

"I think you must have been meant for a man, Tanagra," she said after a pause. "You have the gift of silence, and nothing is more provoking to a woman."

"What do you want me to say?" enquired Lady Tanagra. "I like these cigarettes," she added.

"If you are not careful, you'll make me scream in a minute," said Patricia, with a smile. "I showed you those letters and now you don't even so much as say 'thank you.'"

"Thank you very much indeed, Patricia," said Lady Tanagra meekly.

"You don't approve of them?" There was undisguised challenge in Patricia's voice.

"I think the one to Miss Brent is admirable, specially if you will add a postscript after what I tell you."

"But the other two," persisted Patricia.

"I do not think I am qualified to express an opinion, am I?" said Lady Tanagra calmly.