They all trooped into the lounge, where everybody except Patricia, Bowen and Mrs. Craske-Morton stood about in awkward poses. The arrival of Gustave with coffee relieved the tension. For the next hour each guest endeavoured to attract to himself or herself Bowen's attention, and each was disappointed when at length he rose to go and shook hands only with Mrs. Craske-Morton, including the others in a comprehensive bow. Still more were they disappointed and surprised when Patricia did not go out into the hall to see him off. "Oh, Miss Brent!" simpered Miss Sikkum, "aren't you going to say good night to him?" "Good night!" interrogated Patricia, "but I did." "Yes; but I mean----" began Miss Sikkum. "Oh, you know," she said with a simper, but Patricia had passed over to a chair, where she seated herself and began to read a newspaper upside down. Miss Sikkum's romantic soul had received a shock. CHAPTER XV MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA IN KENSINGTON GARDENS I "Well, me dear, 'ow goes it?" Mr. Triggs flooded the room with his genial person, mopping his brow with a large bandana handkerchief, and blowing a cheerful protest against the excessive heat. Patricia looked up from her work and greeted him with a tired smile, as he collapsed heavily upon a chair, which creaked ominously beneath his weight. "When you're sixty-two in the shade it ain't like being twenty-five in the sun," he said, laughing happily at his joke. "Now you must sit quiet and be good," admonished Patricia. "I'm busy with beetles." "Busy with what?" demanded Mr. Triggs arresting the process of fanning himself with his handkerchief. "The potato-beetle," explained Patricia. "There is no lack of variety in the life of an M.P.'s secretary: babies and beetles, pigs and potatoes, meat and margarine, they all have their allotted place." "Arthur works you too 'ard, me dear, I'm afraid," said Mr. Triggs. "I must speak to 'im about it." "Oh, Mr. Triggs! You mustn't do anything of the sort. He's most kind and considerate, and if I am here I must do what he wants." "But beetles and babies and potatoes, me dear," said Mr. Triggs. "That's more than a joke." "Oh! you don't know what a joke a beetle can be," said Patricia, looking up and laughing in spite of herself at the expression of anxiety on Mr. Triggs's face. Mr. Triggs mumbled something to himself. "God bless my soul!" he exclaimed a moment after. "'Ere am I, forgetting what I come about. I've seen _The Morning Post_, me dear." Patricia pushed back her chair from the table and turned and faced Mr. Triggs. "Mr. Triggs," she said, "if you mention the words _Morning Post_ to me again I think I shall kill you." Mr. Triggs's hands dropped to his side as he gazed at her in blank astonishment. "But, me dear----" he began. "The engagement has been broken off," announced Patricia.