Part 28 (1/2)
Bowen opened the door of the morning-room. Mrs. Bonsor was in the hall. Patricia walked over to the library, leaving Bowen in Mrs.
Bonsor's clutches.
”Oh, Lord Peter!” Mrs. Bonsor gushed. ”I hope you and Miss Brent will dine with us----”
Patricia shut the library door without waiting to hear Bowen's reply.
At five o'clock she gave up the unequal struggle with infant mortality statistics and walked listlessly across the Park to Galvin House. She was tired and dispirited. It was the weather, she told herself, London in June could be very trying, then there had been all that fuss over _The Morning Post_ announcement. At Galvin House she knew the same ordeal was awaiting her that she had pa.s.sed through at Eaton Square.
Mrs. Craske-Morton would be effusive, Miss w.a.n.gle would unbend, Miss Sikk.u.m would simper, Mr. Bolton would be facetious, and all the others would be exactly what they had been all their lives, only a little more so as a result of _The Morning Post_ paragraph.
Only the fact of Miss w.a.n.gle taking breakfast in bed had saved Patricia from the ordeal at breakfast. Miss w.a.n.gle was the only resident at Galvin House who regularly took _The Morning Post_, it being ”the dear bishop's favourite paper.”
Arrived at Galvin House Patricia went straight to her room. Das.h.i.+ng past Gustave, who greeted her with ”Oh, mees!” struggling at the same time to extract from his pocket a newspaper. Patricia felt that she should scream. Had everyone in Galvin House bought a copy of that day's _Morning Post_, and would they all bring it out of their pockets and point out the pa.s.sage to her? She sighed wearily.
Suddenly she jumped up from the bed where she had thrown herself, seized her writing-case and proceeded to write feverishly. At the end of half an hour she read and addressed three letters, stamping two of them. The first was to the editor of _The Morning Post_, and ran:--
”DEAR SIR,
”In your issue of to-day's date you make an announcement regarding a marriage having been arranged between Lord Peter Bowen and myself, which is entirely inaccurate.
”I am given to understand that this announcement was inserted on the authority of my aunt, Miss Adelaide Brent, and I must leave you to take what action you choose in relation to her. As for myself, I will ask you to be so kind as to insert a contradiction of the statement in your next issue.
”I am, ”Yours faithfully, ”PATRICIA BRENT.”
Patricia always prided herself on the business-like quality of her letters.
The second letter was to Miss Brent. It ran:--
”DEAR AUNT ADELAIDE,
”I have written to the editor of _The Morning Post_ informing him that he must take such action as he sees fit against you for inserting your unauthorised statement that a marriage has been arranged between Lord Peter Bowen and me. It may interest you to know that the engagement has been broken off as a result of your impulsive and ill-advised action. Personally I think you have rather presumed on being my 'sole surviving relative.'
”Your affectionate niece, ”PATRICIA.”
The third letter was to Bowen.
”DEAR LORD PETER,
”I have written to the editor of _The Morning Post_, asking him to contradict the inaccurate statement published in to-day's issue. I am consumed with humiliation that such a thing should have been sent to him by a relative of mine, more particularly by a 'sole surviving relative.' My aunt unfortunately epitomises in her personality all the least desirable characteristics to be found in relatives.
”I cannot tell you how sorry I am about--oh, everything! If you really want to save me from feeling thoroughly ashamed of myself you will not only forget me, but also a certain incident.
”You have done me a great honour, I know, and you will add to it a great service if you will do as I ask and forget all about a folly that I have had cause bitterly to regret.
”Please forgive me for not dining with you to-night and for breaking my word; but I am feeling very unwell and tired and I have gone to bed.
”Yours sincerely, ”PATRICIA BRENT.”