"Patricia, don't be frivolous."
"Frivolous! Me frivolous! Aunt Adelaide! If you were a secretary to a brainless politician, who is supposed to rise, but who won't rise, can't rise, and never will rise, from ten until five each day, for the magnificent salary of two and a half guineas a week, even you wouldn't be able to be frivolous."
"Patricia!" There was surprised disapproval in Miss Brent's voice. "Are you mad?"
"No, Aunt Adelaide, just bored, just bored stiff." Patricia emphasised the word "stiff" in a way that brought Miss Brent into an even more upright position.
"Patricia, I wish you would change your idiom. Your flagrant vulgarity would have deeply pained your poor, dear father."
Patricia made no response; she simply looked as she felt, unutterably bored. She was incapable even of invention. Supposing she told her aunt the whole story, at least she would have the joy of seeing the look of horror that would overspread her features.
"Patricia," continued Miss Brent, "I repeat, what is this I hear about your being engaged?"
"Oh!" replied Patricia indifferently, "I suppose you've heard the truth; I've got engaged."
"Without telling me a word about it."
"Oh, well! those are nasty things, you know, that one doesn't advertise."
"Patricia!"
