"Yes; by falling in love with my friend, and in a most treacherous manner she must do the same." Lady Tanagra's tone was matter-of-fact enough to deceive a misanthropist.
Patricia's cheeks burned and her eyes fell beneath the gaze of the others. She felt as a man might who reads his own obituary notices.
"And why was I not told, her sole surviving relative?" Miss Brent rapped out the question with the air of a counsel for the prosecution.
"That was my fault," broke in Bowen.
Three pairs of eyes were instantly turned upon him. Miss Brent suspicious, Lady Tanagra admiring, Patricia wondering.
"And why, may I ask?" enquired Miss Brent.
"I wanted it to be a secret between Patricia and me," explained Bowen easily.
"But, Lady Tanagra——" There was a note in Miss Brent's voice that Patricia recognised as a soldier does the gas-gong.
"Oh!" replied Bowen, "she finds out everything; but I only told her at lunch to-day."
"And he told me as if I had not already discovered the fact for myself," laughed Lady Tanagra.