"I've given her an alcohol rub and kept the hot-water bottles to her all the while," said Constance briskly. "She'll be feeling better after a by, won't you, Rosamond?" Rosamond dropped her eyes in a way that meant yes, and Patricia flew to bend over her and whisper her grief at finding her so ill. "Better not take in any more germs than you can help," said Constance in a business-like way. "Clear out, now, young one, and get your breakfast. The restaurant will be closed if you don't hurry." Patricia went off, feeling that she was leaving her friend in competent hands, and after she had finished a hasty meal she went to Miss Ardsley's room to notify her of Rosamond's plight. There was no response to her knock and she was forced to leave without having done her errand. She met Miss Tatten on the way upstairs, however, and she poured out her tale of woe, grateful for the chance of enlisting the sturdy common sense of the house-keeper. "Ah, indeed," was Miss Tatten's only comment. Her arched eyebrows rose with nervous twitches and her deep contralto voice rolled sonorously. "Have you notified Miss Ardsley? Has a physician been called?" Patricia explained why the directress had not been told. "You'll do beautifully in her place, won't you?" she asked with such evident desire for an affirmative answer that Miss Tatten, being only human and liking Patricia exceedingly, showed signs of melting from her official starched dignity, and promised to come at once. They went together into the sick-room and Patricia revised her former opinion of Miss Tatten as a just yet severe automaton when she saw the real kindliness and tender consideration she showed there. The doctor was coming up the stairs as Patricia pinned on her hat and hurried away for her singing lesson, and only the sternness which Tancredi showed toward late-comers kept her from lingering to hear his verdict. In the courtyard she met Miss Ardsley, coming placidly from her milliner's. "At this most unearthly hour, my dear, because the obstinate creature refused to make my new hat for 'Varnishing Day' on Friday unless I gave her a sitting this morning." Patricia was not at any time much interested in Miss Ardsley's hats, but now they grew intolerable. She waited for a period in the gentle flow of criticism on the prevalent modes, and then she boldly broke in. "I'm sorry I have to go," she said apologetically. "I must tell you, though, before I fly, that Rosamond Merton is ill with the grippe and we've sent for the doctor. He's in her room, now, so you'll have to go right up if you want to see him there." Miss Ardsley gasped. "Ill with grippe! How--how very annoying. Really, I was hoping to keep Artemis Lodge free from that taint," she said with a slightly sharp edge to her gentle tones. "Is she suffering much?" she added more sweetly, being recalled perhaps by the incredulous expression in Patricia's very speaking eyes.