"Patricia. The captor of St. Anthony, and we're going to be friends, and she's coming to lunch with me to meet Daddy, and Goddy's coming too, so don't you dare to carry him off. Oh, Mr. Triggs! isn't it a lovely day," she cried, turning to Mr. Triggs, who, hat in hand, was mopping his brow.
"Beautiful, me dear, beautiful," he exclaimed, beaming upon her and turning to shake hands with Patricia. "Well, me dear, how goes it?" she enquired. Then looking at her keenly he added, "Why, you're looking much better."
Patricia smiled, conscious that the improvement in her looks was not a little due to Lady Peggy and her bright chatter.
"You've become such a gad-about, Mr. Triggs, that you forget poor me," she said.
"Oh no, he doesn't!" broke in Lady Peggy, "he's always talking about you. Whenever I try to make love to him he always drags you in. I've really come to hate you, Patricia, because you seem to come between me and all my love affairs. Oh! I wish we could find Peter," cried Lady Peggy suddenly, "that would complete the party."
Patricia hoped fervently that they would not come across Bowen. She saw that it would make the situation extremely awkward.
"And now we must dash off for lunch," cried Lady Peggy, "or we shall be late and Daddy will be cross." She shook hands with Mr. Triggs blew
