"I am sorry to appear rude, Aunt Adelaide, but it is much better to be frank. I am sure you mean well; but the fact of your being my sole surviving relative places me at a disadvantage. If there were two of you or three, you could quarrel about me, and thus preserve the balance. Now let us talk about something else." For once in her life Miss Brent was nonplussed. She regarded her niece as if she had been a two-tailed giraffe, or a double-headed mastodon. Had she been American she would have known it to be brain-storm; as it was she decided that Patricia was sickening for some serious illness that had produced a temperature. In all her experience of "the Family" never once had Miss Brent been openly defied in this way, and she had no reserves upon which to fall back. She held personal opinion and inclination must always take secondary place to "the Family." The individual must be sacrificed to the group, provided the individual were not herself. Births, deaths, marriages, christenings, funerals, weddings, were solemn functions that must be regarded as involving not the principals themselves so much as their relatives. Her doctrine was, although she would not have expressed it so philosophically, that the individual is mortal; but the family is immortal. That anyone lived for himself or herself never seemed to occur to Miss Brent. If their actions were acceptable to the family and at the same time pleased the principals, then so much the better for the principals; if, on the other hand, the family disapproved, then the duty of the principals was clear. This open flouting of her prides and her prejudices was to Miss Brent a great blow. It seemed to stun her. She was at a loss how to proceed; all she realised was that she must save "the Family" at any cost. "Now tell me what happened when you came in," said Patricia sweetly. "I must be going," said Miss Brent solemnly. "Must you?" enquired Patricia politely; but rising lest her aunt should change her mind. "Now remember," said Patricia as they walked along the hall, "you've lost me one matrimonial fish. If I get another nibble you must keep out of----" But Miss Brent had fled. "Well, that's that!" sighed Patricia as she walked slowly upstairs. CHAPTER XVII LADY PEGGY MAKES A FRIEND One Sunday morning as Patricia was sitting in the Park watching the promenaders and feeling very lonely, she saw coming across the grass towards her Godfrey Elton accompanied by a pretty dark girl in an amber costume and a black hat. She bowed her acknowledgment of Elton's salute, and watched the pair as they passed on in the direction of Marble Arch. Suddenly the girl stopped and turned. For a moment Elton stood irresolute, then he also turned and they both walked in Patricia's direction. "Lady Peggy insisted that we should break in upon your solitude," said Elton, having introduced the two girls.