Aunt Patricia did look so uncompromising in a hideous smoke-gray dressing gown made without any attempt at decorations. Her small knot of hair was screwed into a tight coil at the back of her head. Mrs. Burton's own hair had kept its beautiful dusky quality, it had the dark sheen of the hair of the mythical Irish fairies, for only in Anglo-Saxon countries are fairies of necessity fair. Tonight Mrs. Burton's hair was unbound and hung about her shoulders as if she were a girl. Fearing that Miss Patricia might regard her frivolous appearance with disfavor, she now began braiding it into one heavy braid. "What ever it is you desire to say, I do wish you would begin, Polly, so that we both can go to bed," the elderly spinster remarked. Mrs. Burton shook her head. "You are not in a good humor, are you, Aunt Patricia? But at least there is one thing you will be glad to hear: our guests, Monsieur Duval and Mrs. Bishop, are leaving our farm the day after tomorrow." "A good riddance," Miss Patricia answered sharply. Then observing that her companion had flushed and undoubtedly was annoyed by her plain speaking, Aunt Patricia's manner became slightly mollified. "It is not that I have anything personal against your friends, Polly. I must say they have both endeavored to be very agreeable since their arrival and to give as little trouble as possible. But I told you on board ship I did not like the attitude of that Frenchman toward you. It was no surprise to me when he discovered he had important business in this part of France. Of course it should not be necessary for me to remind you that you are a married woman, with your unfortunate husband serving his country in France many miles from here and also that you are chaperoning a group of young girls. I suppose you will simply tell me that I do not understand French manners, but that is neither here nor there, Polly Burton. Your Frenchman is polite to your friend, Mrs. Bishop, I must confess he is also courteous to me; but I am obliged to repeat that his manner neither to Mrs. Bishop nor to me is in the least like his manner to you." "Aunt Patricia, you are so ridiculous! Still I don't feel like laughing this time; you really are making me angry," Mrs. Burton answered. "I have made a great many persons angry in my life, Polly. I cannot even flatter myself that this is the first time I have offended you. However, I feel compelled to speak the truth." Miss Patricia's tone remained imperturbable. "But that is just the trouble, Aunt Patricia, you are not speaking the truth, although of course I know you don't realize it and I beg your pardon," Mrs. Burton argued. "But why do you allow yourself to acquire such prejudices and such foolish impressions? I simply refuse to discuss the suggestion you have just made. Please never speak of it to me again."