Lady Tanagra looked at her quickly, noting the flatness of her voice.
"A wise hen should never brood upon being a hen," she remarked oracularly.
Patricia laughed. "It is all very well for Dives to tell Lazarus that it is noble to withstand the pangs of hunger," she replied.
"Now let us go and get tea," said Lady Tanagra, as she turned the car into the road running between Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park.
"Tea!" cried Patricia, "why it's past five."
"Tea is a panacea for all ills and a liquid for all hours. You have only to visit a Government Department for proof of that," said Lady Tanagra, as she descended from the car and walked towards the umbrella-sheltered tea-tables dotted about beneath the trees. "And now I want to have a talk with you for a few minutes," she said as they seated themselves at an empty table.
"I feel in the mood for listening," said Patricia, "provided it is not to be good advice," she added.
"I've been having a serious talk with Peter," said Lady Tanagra.
Patricia looked up at her. Overhead white, fleecy clouds played a game of hide-and-seek with the sunshine. The trees rustled languidly in the breeze, and in the distance a peacock screamed ominously.
"I have told him," continued Lady Tanagra, "that I will not have you worried, and he has promised me not to see you, write to you, telephone to you, send you messenger-boys, chocolates, flowers or anything else in the world, in fact he's out of your way for ever and ever."