Patricia Brent, Spinster Part 38

Mr. Triggs smiled happily. He was as susceptible to flattery as a young girl.

"Well, it ain't much good trying to be what you're not. I've been a working-man, and I'm not ashamed of it, and you and Lady Tanagra and Mr. Elton ain't ashamed of being seen with me. But 'Ettie, she'd no more be seen with 'er old father in Hyde Park than she'd be seen with 'im in a Turkish bath."

"We all have our weaknesses, don't you think?" said Patricia.

And Mr. Triggs agreed.

"You, for instance, have a weakness for High Society," continued Patricia.

"Me, me dear!" exclaimed Mr. Triggs in surprise.

"Yes," said Patricia, "it's no good denying it. Don't you like knowing Lord Peter and Lady Tanagra, Mr. Elton and all the rest of them?"

"It's not because they're in Society," began Mr. Triggs.

"Oh, yes it is! You imagine that you are now a very great personage.

Soon you will be moving from Streatham into Park Lane, and then you will not know me."

"Oh, me dear!" said Mr. Triggs in distress.

"It's no good denying it," continued Patricia. "Look at the way you made friends with Lord Peter." Patricia was priding herself on the way in which she had led the conversation round to Bowen; but Mr. Triggs was not to be drawn.

"G.o.d bless my soul!" he cried, stopping still and removing his hat, mopping his brow vigorously. "I don't mind whether anyone has a t.i.tle or not. It's just them I like. Now look at Lady Tanagra. No one would think she was a lady."

"Really, Mr. Triggs! I shall tell her if you take her character away in this manner. She's one of the most exquisitely bred people I have ever met."

Mr. Triggs looked reproachfully at Patricia.

"It's a bit 'ard on a young gal when she finds 'er father drops 'is aitches," he remarked, reverting to his daughter. "I often wonder whether I was right in giving 'Ettie such an education. She went to an 'Igh School at Eastmouth," he added. "It only made 'er dissatisfied.

It was 'ard luck 'er 'aving me for a father," he concluded more to himself than to Patricia.

"I am perfectly willing to adopt you as a father, Mr. Triggs, if you are in want of adoption," said Patricia.

Mr. Triggs turned to her with a sunny smile.

"Ah! you're different, me dear. You see you're a lady born, same as Lady Tanagra; but 'Ettie ain't. That's what makes 'er sensitive like.

It's a funny world," Mr. Triggs continued; "if you go about with one boot, and you 'appen to be a duke, people make a fuss of you because you're a character; but if you 'appen to be a builder and go about in the same way they call you mad."

That evening Patricia was particularly unresponsive to Mr. Bolton's attempts to engage her in conversation.

CHAPTER XVI

PATRICIA'S INCONSTANCY

Patricia's engagement and approaching marriage were the sole topics of conversation at Galvin House, at meal-times in particular. Bowen was discussed and admired from every angle and aspect. Questions rained upon Patricia. When was she likely to get married? Where was the wedding to take place? Would she go abroad for her honeymoon? Who was to provide the wedding-cake? Where did she propose to get her trousseau? Would the King and Queen be present at the wedding?

At first Patricia had endeavoured to answer coherently; but finding this useless, she soon drifted into the habit of replying at random, with the result that Galvin House received much curious information.

Miss w.a.n.gle's olive-branch was an announcement of how pleased the dear bishop would have been to marry Miss Brent and Lord Peter had he been alive.

Mr. Bolton joked as feebly as ever. Mr. Cordal masticated with his wonted vigour. Mr. Sefton became absorbed in the prospect of the raising of the military age limit, and strove to hearten himself by constant references to the time when he would be in khaki. Miss Sikk.u.m continued to surround herself with an atmosphere of romance, and invariably returned in the evening breathless from her chaste endeavours to escape from some "awful man" who had pursued her. The reek of cooking seemed to become more obvious, and the dreariness of Sundays more p.r.o.nounced. Some times Patricia thought of leaving Galvin House for a place where she would be less notorious; but something seemed to bind her to the old a.s.sociations.

As she returned each evening, her eyes instinctively wandered towards the table and the letter-rack. If there were a parcel, her heart would bound suddenly, only to resume its normal pace when she discovered that it was for someone else.

Of Lady Tanagra she saw little, news of Bowen she received none. Her most dexterous endeavours to cross-examine Mr. Triggs ended in failure.

He seemed to have lost all interest in Bowen. Lady Tanagra never even mentioned his name.

Whatever the shortcomings of Lady Tanagra and Mr. Triggs in this direction, however, they were more than compensated for by Mrs. Bonsor.

Her effusive friendliness Patricia found overwhelming, and her insistent hospitality, which took the form of a flood of invitations to Patricia and Bowen to lunch, dine or to do anything they chose in her house or elsewhere, was bewildering.

At last in self-defence Patricia had to tell Mrs. Bonsor that Bowen was too much occupied with his duties even to see her; but this seemed to increase rather than diminish Mrs. Bonsor's hospitable instincts, which included Lady Tanagra as well as her brother. Would not Miss Brent bring Lady Tanagra to tea or to luncheon one day? Perhaps they would take tea with Mrs. Bonsor at the Ritz one afternoon? Could they lunch at the Carlton? To all of these invitations Patricia replied with cold civility.

In her heart Mrs. Bonsor was raging against the "airs" of her husband's secretary; but she saw that Lady Tanagra and Lord Peter might be extremely useful to her and to her husband in his career. Consequently she did not by any overt sign show her pique.

One day when Patricia was taking down letters for Mr. Bonsor, Mr.

Triggs burst into the library in a state of obvious excitement.

"Where's 'Ettie?" he demanded, after having saluted Patricia and Mr.

Bonsor.

Mr. Bonsor looked at him reproachfully.

"'Ere, ring for 'Ettie, A. B., I've got something to show you all."

Mr. Bonsor pressed the bell. As he did so Mrs. Bonsor entered the room, having heard her father's voice.

With great empress.e.m.e.nt Mr. Triggs produced from the tail pocket of his coat a folded copy of the "Ill.u.s.trated Universe". Flattening it out upon the table he moistened his thumb and finger and, with great deliberation, turned over several leaves, then indicating a page he demanded:

"What do you think of that?"

"That," was a full-page picture of Lady Tanagra walking in the Park with Mr. Triggs. The portrait of Lady Tanagra was a little indistinct; but that of Mr. Triggs was as clear as daylight, and a remarkable likeness. Underneath was printed "Lady Tanagra Bowen and a friend walking in the Park."

Mrs. Bonsor devoured the picture and then looked up at her father, a new respect in her eyes.

"What do you think of it, 'Ettie?" enquired Mr. Triggs again.

"It's a very good likeness, father," said Mrs. Bonsor weakly.

It was Patricia, however, who expressed what Mr. Triggs had antic.i.p.ated.

"You're becoming a great personage, Mr. Triggs," she cried. "If you are not careful you will compromise Lady Tanagra."

Mr. Triggs chuckled with glee as he mopped his forehead with his handkerchief.

"I rang 'er up this morning," he said.