"Patricia Brent," she apostrophised her reflection in the mirror. "You're a fool! and you have not even the saving grace of being an old fool. High Society has turned your giddy young head," and with a laugh that sounded hard even to her own ears, she got into bed and switched off the light. CHAPTER XIV GALVIN HOUSE MEETS A LORD The effect of _The Morning Post_ announcement upon Galvin House had been little short of sensational. Although all were aware of the engagement, to see the announcement in print seemed to arouse them to a point of enthusiasm. Everyone from the servants upwards possessed a copy of _The Morning Post_, with the single exception of Mrs. Barnes, who had mislaid hers and made everybody's life a misery by insisting on examining their copy to make quite sure that they had not taken hers by mistake. Had not Patricia been so preoccupied, she could not have failed to notice the atmosphere of suppressed excitement at Galvin House. Many glances were directed at her, glances of superior knowledge, of which she was entirely unconscious. Woman-like she never paused to ask herself what she really felt or what she really meant. Her thoughts ran in a circle, coming back inevitably to the maddening question, "What does he really think of me?" Why had Fate been so unkind as to undermine a possible friendship with that damning introduction? After all, she would ask herself indifferently, what did it matter? Bowen was nothing to her. Then back again her thoughts would rush to the inevitable question, what did he really think? Since the night of her adventure, Patricia had formed the habit of dressing for dinner. She made neither excuse nor explanation to herself as to why she did so. Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe, however, had covertly remarked upon the fact; but Patricia had ignored them. She had reached that state in her psychological development when she neither explained nor denied things. With delicacy and insight Providence has withheld from woman the uncomfortable quality of introspection. Had Patricia subjected her actions to the rigid test of reason, she would have found them strangely at variance with her determination. With a perversity characteristic of her sex, she forbade Bowen to see her, and then spent hours in speculating as to when and how he would disobey her. A parcel in the hall at Galvin House sent the colour flooding to her cheeks, whilst Gustave, entering the lounge, bearing his flamboyant nickle-plated apology for the conventional silver salver, set her heart thumping with expectation.