Patricia Brent, Spinster Part 18

Over lunch they talked upon general topics and about common friends.

Lady Tanagra made no reference to the important matter that had caused her to be summoned to lunch, even at the expense of having measles as an excuse. That was characteristic of her. She had nothing of a woman's curiosity, at least she never showed it, particularly with Peter.

After lunch they went to the lounge for coffee. When they had been served and both were smoking, Bowen remarked casually, "Got any engagement for this afternoon, Tan?"

"Tea at the Carlton at half-past four, then I promised to run in to see the Grahams before dinner. I'm afraid it will mean more flowers and fruit. Oh!" she replied, "I suppose I must stick to measles. I shall have to buy some thanks for kind enquiries cards as I go home."

During lunch Bowen had been wondering how he could approach the subject of Patricia. He could not tell even Tanagra how he had met her--that was Patricia's secret. If she chose to tell, that was another matter; but he could not. As a rule he found it easy to talk to Tanagra and explain things; but this was a little unusual. Lady Tanagra watched him shrewdly for a minute or two.

"I think I should just say it as it comes, Peter," she remarked in a casual, matter-of-fact tone.

Bowen started and then laughed.

"What I want is a sponsor for an acquaintances.h.i.+p between myself and a girl. I cannot tell you everything, Tan, she may decide to; but of course you know it's all right."

"Why, of course," broke in Lady Tanagra with an air of conviction which contained something of a reproach that he should have thought it necessary to mention such a thing.

"Well, you've got to do a bit of lying, too, I'm afraid."

"Oh! that will be all right. The natural consequence of a high temperature through measles." Lady Tanagra saw that Bowen was ill at ease, and sought by her lightness to simplify things for him.

"How long have I known her?" she proceeded.

"Oh! that you had better settle with her. All that is necessary is for you to have met her somewhere, or somehow, and to have introduced me to her."

"And who is to receive these explanations?" enquired Lady Tanagra.

"Her aunt, a gorgon."

"Does the girl know that you are--that I am to throw myself into the breach?"

"No," said Peter, "I didn't think to tell her. I said that I would arrange things. Her name's Patricia Brent. She's private secretary to Arthur Bonsor of 426 Eaton Square, and she lives at Galvin House Residential Hotel, to give it its full t.i.tle, 8 Galvin Street, Bayswater. Her aunt is to be at Galvin House at half-past five this afternoon, when I have to be explained to her. Oh! it's most devilish awkward, Tan, because I can't tell you the facts of the case. I wish she were here."

"That's all right, Peter. I'll put things right. What time does she leave Eaton Square?"

"Five o'clock, I think."

"Good! leave it to me. By the way, where shall you be if I want to get at you?"

"When?"

"Say six o'clock."

"I'll be back here at six and wait until seven."

"That will do. Now I really must be going. I've got to telephone to these people about the measles. Shall I run you down to Whitehall?"

"No, thanks, I think I'll walk," and with that he saw her into her car and turned to walk back to Whitehall, thanking his stars for being possessed of such a sister and marvelling at her wisdom. He had not the most remote idea of how she would achieve her purpose; but achieve it he was convinced she would. It was notorious that Lady Tanagra never failed in anything she undertook.

While Bowen and his sister were lunching at the Quadrant, Patricia was endeavouring to concentrate her mind upon her work. "The egregious Arthur," as she called him to herself in her more impatient moments, had been very trying that morning. He had been in a particularly indeterminate mood, which involved the altering and changing of almost every sentence he dictated. In the usual way he was content to tell Patricia what he wanted to say, and let her clothe it in fitting words; but this morning he had insisted on dictating every letter, with the result that her notes had become hopelessly involved and she was experiencing great difficulty in reading them. Added to this was the fact that she could not keep her thoughts from straying to Aunt Adelaide. What would happen that afternoon? What was Bowen going to do to save the situation? He had promised to see her through; but how was he going to do it?

CHAPTER IX

LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND

At a quarter to five Patricia left the library to go upstairs to put on her hat and coat. In the hall she encountered Mrs. Bonsor.

"Finished?" interrogated that lady in a tone of voice that implied she was perfectly well aware of the fact that it wanted still a quarter of an hour to the time at which Patricia was supposed to be free.

"No; there is still some left; but I'm going home," said Patricia.

There was something in her voice and appearance that prompted Mrs.

Bonsor to smile her artificial smile and remark that she thought Patricia was quite right, the weather being very trying.

When she left the Bonsors' house, Patricia was too occupied with her own thoughts to notice the large grey car standing a few yards up the square with a girl at the steering-wheel. Patricia turned in the opposite direction from that in which the car stood, making her way towards Sloane Street to get her bus. She had not gone many steps when the big car slid silently up beside her, and she heard a voice say, "Can't I give you a lift to Galvin House?"

She turned round and saw a fair-haired girl smiling at her from the car.

"I--I----"

"Jump in, won't you?" said the girl.

"But--but I think you've made a mistake."

"You're Patricia Brent, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Patricia, smiling, "that's my name."

"Well then, jump in and I'll run you up to Galvin House. Don't delay or you'll be too late for your aunt."

Patricia looked at the girl in mute astonishment, but proceeded to get into the car, there seemed nothing else to be done. As she did so, the fair-haired girl laughed brightly. "It's awfully mean of me to take such an advantage, but I couldn't resist it. I'm Peter's sister, Tanagra."

"Oh!" said Patricia, light dawning upon her and turning to Tanagra with a smile, "Then you're the solution?"

"Yes," said Lady Tanagra, "I'm going to see you two out of the mess you've somehow or other got into."

Suddenly Patricia stiffened. "Did he--did he--er--tell you?"

"Not he," said Lady Tanagra, shoving on the brake suddenly to avoid a crawling taxi that had swung round without any warning. "Peter doesn't talk."

"But then, how do you----?"

"Well," said Lady Tanagra, "he told me that I was to be the one who had introduced him to you and explain him to your aunt. It's all over London that I've got measles, and there will be simply piles of flowers and fruit arriving at Grosvenor Square by every possible conveyance."

"Measles!" cried Patricia uncomprehendingly.

"Yes, you see when Peter wants me I always have to throw up any sort of engagement, and he does the same for me. When he asked me to lunch with him to-day and said it was important, I had to give some reasonable excuse to three lots of people to whom I had pledged myself, and I thought measles would do quite nicely."