Patricia was in the act of transcribing some particulars about infant mortality in England and Wales compared with that of Scotland, when the parlourmaid entered with a note. Mr. Bonsor stretched out his hand for it. "It is for Miss Brent, sir," said the maid. Patricia looked up in surprise. It was unusual for her to receive a note at the Bonsors'. She opened the envelope mechanically and read:-- "DEAREST, "I have just seen _The Morning Post_. It is sweet of you to relent. You have made me very happy. Will you dine with me to-night and when may I take you to Grosvenor Square? My mother will want to see her new daughter-in-law. "I so enjoyed last night. Surely the gods are on my side. "PETER." Patricia read and re-read the note. For a moment she felt ridiculously happy, then, with a swift change of mood she saw the humiliation of her situation. Bowen thought it was she who had inserted the notice of the engagement. What must he think of her? It looked as if she had done it to burn his boats behind him. Then suddenly she seized a pen and wrote:-- "DEAR LORD PETER, "I know nothing whatever about the announcement in _The Morning Post_, and I only heard of it when I arrived here. I cannot dine with you to-night, and I am very angry and upset that anyone should have had the impertinence to interfere in my affairs. I shall take up the matter with _The Morning Post_ people and insist on a contradiction immediately. "Yours sincerely, "PATRICIA BRENT." With quick, decisive movements Patricia folded the note, addressed the envelope and handed it to the maid, then she turned to Mr. Bonsor. "I am sorry to interrupt work, Mr. Bonsor; but that was rather an important note that I had to answer." Mr. Bonsor smiled sympathetically. At lunch-time Patricia purchased a copy of _The Morning Post_, and there saw in all its unblushing mendacity the announcement. "A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between Lord Peter Bowen, D.S.O., M.C., attached to the General Staff, son of the 7th Marquess of Meyfield, and Patricia Brent, daughter of the late John Brent, of Little Milstead." "Why on earth must the ridiculous people put it at the top of the column?" she muttered aloud. A man occupying an adjoining table at the place where she was lunching turned and looked at her. "And now I must go back to potatoes, pigs, and babies," said Patricia to herself as she paid her bill and rose. "Ugh!" She had scarcely settled down to her afternoon's work when the maid entered and announced, "Lord Peter Bowen to see you, miss." "Oh bother!" exclaimed Patricia. "Tell him I'm busy, will you please?" The maid's jaw dropped; she was excellently trained, but no maid-servant could be expected to rise superior to such an extraordinary attitude on the part of a newly-engaged girl. Nothing short of a butler who had lived in the best families could have risen to such an occasion. "But, Miss Brent----" began Mr. Bonsor.