Miss Brent made several efforts to approach Lady Meyfield to have a few minutes' talk with her about the subject of her call; but without success. She was always surrounded either by arriving or departing guests, and soldiers seemed perpetually hovering about ready to pounce upon her at the first opportunity. At last Miss Brent succeeded in attracting her hostess' attention, and before she knew exactly what had happened, Lady Meyfield had shaken hands, thanked her for coming, hoped she would come again soon, and Miss Brent was walking downstairs her mission unaccomplished. Her only consolation was the knowledge that within the next day or two _The Morning Post_ would put matters upon a correct footing. A mile away Patricia was tapping out upon her typewriter that "pigs are the potential saviours of the Empire." CHAPTER XI THE DEFECTION OF MR. TRIGGS "Well, me dear, how goes it?" Patricia looked up from a Blue Book, from which she was laboriously extracting statistics. Mr. Triggs stood before her, florid and happy. He was wearing a new black and white check suit, a white waistcoat and a red tie, whilst in his hand he carried a white felt top-hat with a black band. "It doesn't go at all well," said Patricia, smiling. "What's the matter, me dear?" he enquired anxiously. "You look fagged out." "Oh! I'm endeavouring to extract information about potatoes from stupid Blue Books," said Patricia, leaning back in her chair. "Why can't they let potatoes grow without writing about them?" she asked plaintively, screwing up her eyebrows. "'E ain't much good, is 'e?" enquired Mr. Triggs. "Who?" asked Patricia in surprise. "A. B.," said Mr. Triggs, lowering his voice and looking round furtively, "Dull, 'e strikes me." "Well, you see, Mr. Triggs, he's rising, and you can't rise and be risen at the same time, can you?" Mr. Triggs shook his head doubtfully. "'E'll no more rise than your salary, me dear," he said. "Oh! what a gloomy person you are to-day, Mr. Triggs, and you look like a ray of sunshine." "D'you like it?" enquired Mr. Triggs, smiling happily as he stood back that Patricia might obtain a good view of his new clothes. She now saw that over his black boots he wore a pair of immaculate white spats. "You look just like a duke. But where are you going, and why all this splendour?" asked Patricia. Mr. Triggs beamed upon her. "I'm glad you like it, me dear. I was thinking about you when I ordered it." Patricia looked up and smiled. There was something to her strangely lovable in this old man's simplicity. "I come to take you to the Zoo," he announced. "To the Zoo?" cried Patricia in unfeigned surprise. Mr. Triggs nodded, hugely enjoying the effect of the announcement. "Now run away and get your hat on." "But I couldn't possibly go, I've got heaps of things to do," protested Patricia. "Why Mrs. Bonsor would be----" "Never you mind about 'Ettie; I'll manage 'er. She'll----" "I thought I heard your voice, father."