With quick, decisive movements Patricia folded the note, addressed the envelope and handed it to the maid, then she turned to Mr. Bonsor.
"I am sorry to interrupt work, Mr. Bonsor; but that was rather an important note that I had to answer."
Mr. Bonsor smiled sympathetically.
At lunch-time Patricia purchased a copy of The Morning Post, and there saw in all its unblushing mendacity the announcement.
"A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between Lord Peter Bowen, D.S.O., M.C., attached to the General Staff, son of the 7th Marquess of Meyfield, and Patricia Brent, daughter of the late John Brent, of Little Milstead."
"Why on earth must the ridiculous people put it at the top of the column?" she muttered aloud. A man occupying an adjoining table at the place where she was lunching turned and looked at her.
"And now I must go back to potatoes, pigs, and babies," said Patricia to herself as she paid her bill and rose. "Ugh!"
She had scarcely settled down to her afternoon's work when the maid entered and announced, "Lord Peter Bowen to see you, miss."
"Oh bother!" exclaimed Patricia. "Tell him I'm busy, will you please?"
The maid's jaw dropped; she was excellently trained, but no maid-servant could be expected to rise superior to such an extraordinary attitude on the part of a newly-engaged girl. Nothing short of a butler who had lived in the best families could have risen to such an occasion.