LADY TANAGRA TAKES A HAND
At a quarter to five Patricia left the library to go upstairs to put on
her hat and coat. In the hall she encountered Mrs. Bonsor.
"Finished?" interrogated that lady in a tone of voice that implied she
was perfectly well aware of the fact that it wanted still a quarter of
an hour to the time at which Patricia was supposed to be free.
"No; there is still some left; but I'm going home," said Patricia.
There was something in her voice and appearance that prompted Mrs.
Bonsor to smile her artificial smile and remark that she thought
Patricia was quite right, the weather being very trying.
When she left the Bonsors' house, Patricia was too occupied with her
own thoughts to notice the large grey car standing a few yards up the
square with a girl at the steering-wheel. Patricia turned in the
opposite direction from that in which the car stood, making her way
towards Sloane Street to get her bus. She had not gone many steps when
the big car slid silently up beside her, and she heard a voice say,
"Can't I give you a lift to Galvin House?"
She turned round and saw a fair-haired girl smiling at her from the car.
"I--I----"
"Jump in, won't you?" said the girl.
"But--but I think you've made a mistake."
"You're Patricia Brent, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Patricia, smiling, "that's my name."
"Well then, jump in and I'll run you up to Galvin House. Don't delay
or you'll be too late for your aunt."
Patricia looked at the girl in mute astonishment, but proceeded to get
into the car, there seemed nothing else to be done. As she did so, the
fair-haired girl laughed brightly. "It's awfully mean of me to take
such an advantage, but I couldn't resist it. I'm Peter's sister,
Tanagra."
"Oh!" said Patricia, light dawning upon her and turning to Tanagra with
a smile, "Then you're the solution?"
"Yes," said Lady Tanagra, "I'm going to see you two out of the mess
you've somehow or other got into."
Suddenly Patricia stiffened. "Did he--did he--er--tell you?"
"Not he," said Lady Tanagra, shoving on the brake suddenly to avoid a
crawling taxi that had swung round without any warning. "Peter doesn't
talk."
"But then, how do you----?"
"Well," said Lady Tanagra, "he told me that I was to be the one who had
introduced him to you and explain him to your aunt. It's all over
London that I've got measles, and there will be simply piles of flowers
and fruit arriving at Grosvenor Square by every possible conveyance."
"Measles!" cried Patricia uncomprehendingly.
"Yes, you see when Peter wants me I always have to throw up any sort of
engagement, and he does the same for me. When he asked me to lunch
with him to-day and said it was important, I had to give some
reasonable excuse to three lots of people to whom I had pledged myself,
and I thought measles would do quite nicely."
Patricia laughed in spite of herself.
"So you don't know anything except that you have got to----"
"Sponsor you," interrupted Lady Tanagra.
For some time Patricia was silent. She felt she could tell her story
to this girl who was so trustful that everything was all right, and who
was willing to do anything to help her brother.
"Can't we go slowly whilst I talk to you," said Patricia, as they
turned into the Park.
"We'll do better than that," said Lady Tanagra, "we'll stop and sit
down for five minutes." She pulled up the car near the Stanhope Gate
and they found a quiet spot under a tree.
"I cannot allow you to enter into this affair," said Patricia, "without
telling you the whole story. What you will think of me afterwards I
don't know; but I've got myself into a most horrible mess."
She then proceeded to explain the whole situation, how it came about
that she had come to know Bowen and the upshot of the meeting. Lady
Tanagra listened without interruption and without betraying by her
expression what were her thoughts.
"And now what do you think of me?" demanded Patricia when she had
concluded.
For a moment Lady Tanagra rested her hand upon Patricia's. "I think,
you goose, that had you known Peter better there would not have been so
much need for you to worry; but there isn't much time and we've got to
prepare. Now listen carefully. First of all you must call me Tan or
Tanagra, and I must call you Patricia or Pat, or whatever you like.
Secondly, as it would take too long to find out if we've got any
friends in common, you went to the V.A.D. Depot in St. George's
Crescent to see if you could do anything to help. There you met me.
I'm quite a shining light there, by the way, and we palled up. This
led to my introducing Peter and--well all the rest is quite easy."
"But--but there isn't any rest," said Patricia. "Don't you see how
horribly awkward it is? I'm supposed to be engaged to him."
"Oh!" said Lady Tanagra quietly, "that's a matter for you and Peter to
settle between you. I'm afraid I can't interfere there. All I can do
is to explain how you and he came to know each other; and now we had
better be getting on as your aunt will not be pleased if you keep her
waiting. What I propose to do is to pick her up and take her up to the
Quadrant where we shall find Peter."
"But," protested Patricia, "that's simply getting us more involved than
ever."
"Well, I'm afraid it's got to be," said Lady Tanagra, smiling
mischievously; "it's much better that they should meet at the Quadrant
than at Galvin House, where you say everybody is so catty."
Patricia saw the force of Lady Tanagra's argument, and they were soon
whirling on their way towards Galvin House. She wanted to pinch
herself to be quite sure that she was not dreaming. Everything seemed
to be happening with such rapidity that her brain refused to keep pace
with events. Why had she not met these people in a conventional way so
that she might preserve their friendship? It was hard luck, she told
herself.
"Would you mind telling me what you propose doing?" enquired Patricia.
"I promised Peter to gather up the pieces," was the response. "All
you've got to do is to remain quiet."
Lady Tanagra brought the car up in front of Galvin House with a
magnificent sweep. Gustave, who had been on the watch, swung open the
door in his most impressive manner.
As Patricia and Lady Tanagra entered the lounge, Miss Wangle and Mrs.
Mosscrop-Smythe were addressing pleasantries to a particularly grim
Miss Brent.
"Oh, here you are!" Miss Brent's exclamation was uttered in such a
voice as to pierce even the thick skin of Miss Wangle, who having
instantly recognised Lady Tanagra, retired with Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe a
few yards, where they carried on a whispered conversation, casting
significant glances at Lady Tanagra, Miss Brent and Patricia.
"I told Patricia that it was time the families met," said Lady Tanagra,
"and so I insisted on coming when I heard you were to be here."
"I think you are quite right."
Patricia was surprised at the change in her aunt. Much of her usual
uncompromising downrightness had been shed, and she appeared almost
gracious. For one thing she was greatly impressed at the thought that
Patricia was to become Lady Peter Bowen. As the aunt of Lady Peter
Bowen, Miss Brent saw that her own social position would be
considerably improved. She saw herself taking precedence at Little
Milstead and issuing its social life and death warrants. Apart from
these considerations Miss Brent was not indifferent to Lady Tanagra's
personal charm.
"Tan's parlour tricks," as Godfrey Elton called them, were notorious.
Everyone was aware of their existence; yet everyone fell an instant
victim. A compound of earnestness, deference, pleading, irresistible
impertinence and dignity, they formed a dangerous weapon.
Lady Tanagra's position among her friends and acquaintance was unique.
When difficulties and contentions arose, the parties' instinctive
impulse was to endeavour to invest her interest. "Tanagra is so
sensible," outraged parenthood would exclaim; "Tan's such a sport.
She'll understand," cried rebellious youth. People not only asked Lady
Tanagra's advice, but took it. The secret of her success, unknown to
herself, was her knowledge of human nature. Even those against whom
she gave her decisions bore her no ill-will.
Her manner towards Miss Brent was a mixture of laughter and
seriousness, with deft little touches of deference.
"I've come to apologize for everybody and everything, Miss Brent," she
cried; "but in particular for myself." Lady Tanagra chatted on gaily,
"sparring for an opening," Elton called it.
"You mustn't blame Patricia," she bubbled in her soft musical voice,
"it's all Peter's fault, and where it's not his fault it's mine," she
proceeded illogically. "You won't be hard on us, will you?" She
looked up at Miss Brent with the demureness of a child expecting severe
rebuke for some naughtiness.
Miss Brent's eyes narrowed and the firm line of her lips widened.
Patricia recognised this as the outward evidences of a smile.
"I confess, I am greatly puzzled," began Miss Brent.
"Of course you must be," continued Lady Tanagra, "and if you were not
so kind you would be very cross, especially with me. Now," she
continued, without giving Miss Brent a chance of replying, "I want you
to do me a very great favour."
Lady Tanagra paused impressively, and gave Miss Brent her most pleading
look.
Miss Brent looked at Lady Tanagra with just a tinge of suspicion in her
pea-soup coloured eyes.
"May I ask what it is?" she enquired guardedly.
"I want you to let me carry you off to a quiet place where we can talk."
Miss Brent rose at once. She disliked Calvin House and the inquisitive
glances of its inmates.
"I told Peter to be at the Quadrant until seven. He is very anxious to
meet you," continued Lady Tanagra as they moved towards the door. "I
would not let him come here as I thought, from that Patricia has told
me, that you would not care--to----" She paused.
"You are quite right, Lady Tanagra," said Miss Brent with decision. "I
do not like boarding-houses. They are not the places for the
discussion of family affairs."
Patricia descended the steps of Galvin House, not quite sure whether
this were reality or a dream. She watched Miss Brent seat herself
beside Lady Tanagra, whilst she herself entered the tonneau of the car.
As the door clicked and the car sprang forward, she caught a glimpse of
eager faces at the windows of Galvin House.
As they swung into the Park and hummed along the even road, Patricia
endeavoured to bring herself to earth. She pinched herself until it
hurt. What had happened? She felt like someone present at her own
funeral. Her fate was being decided without anyone seeming to think it
necessary to consult her.
"By half-past five to-morrow afternoon I shall have found a solution."
Bowen's words came back to her. He was right. Lady Tanagra was indeed
a solution. Patricia and Miss Brent were merely lay-figures. It must
be wonderful to be able to make people do what you wished, she mused.
She wondered what would have happened had Bowen possessed his sister's
powers.
At the Quadrant Peel was waiting in the vestibule. With a bow that
impressed Miss Brent, he conducted them to Bowen's suite. As they
entered Bowen sprang up from a writing-table. Patricia noticed that
there was no smell of tobacco smoke. The Bowens were a wonderful
family, she decided, remembering her aunt's prejudices.
"I have only just heard you were in town," she heard Bowen explaining
to Miss Brent. "I rang up Patricia this morning, but she could not
remember your address."
Patricia gasped; but, seeing the effect of the "grey lie" (it was not
quite innocent enough to be called a white lie, she told herself) she
forgave it.
During tea Lady Tanagra and Bowen set to to "play themselves in," as
Lady Tanagra afterwards expressed it.
"Poor Aunt Adelaide," Patricia murmured to herself, "they'll turn her
giddy young head."
"And now," Lady Tanagra began when Bowen had taken Miss Brent's cup
from her. "I must explain all about this little romance and how it
came about."
Patricia caught Bowen's eye, and saw in it a look of eager interest.
"Patricia wanted to do war work in her spare time," continued Lady
Tanagra, "so she applied to the V.A.D. at St. George's Crescent. I am
on the committee and, by a happy chance," Lady Tanagra smiled across to
Patricia, "she was sent to me. I saw she was not strong and dissuaded
her."
Miss Brent nodded approval.
"I explained," continued Lady Tanagra, "that the work was very hard,
and that it was not necessarily patriotic to overwork so as to get ill.
Doctors have quite enough to do."
Again Miss Brent nodded agreement.
"I think we liked each other from the first," again Lady Tanagra smiled
across at Patricia, "and I asked her to come and have tea with me, and
we became friends. Finally, one day when we were enjoying a quiet talk
here in the lounge, this big brother of mine comes along and spoils
everything." Lady Tanagra regarded Bowen with reproachful eyes.
"Spoiled everything?" enquired Miss Brent.
"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.
"Patricia wanted to tell you," continued Bowen. "She has often talked
of you (Patricia felt sure Aunt Adelaide must hear her start of
surprise); but I wanted to wait until we could go to you together and
confess." Bowen smiled straight into his listener's eyes, a quiet,
friendly smile that would have disarmed a gorgon.
For a few moments there was silence. Miss Brent was thinking, thinking
as a judge thinks who is about to deliver sentence.
"And Lady Meyfield, does she know?" she enquired.
Without giving Bowen a chance to reply Lady Tanagra rushed in as if
fearful that he might make a false move.
"That is another of Peter's follies, keeping it from mother. He argued
that if the engagement were officially announced, the family would take
up all Patricia's time, and he would see nothing of her. Oh! Peter's
very selfish sometimes, I am to say; but," she added with inspiration,
"every thing will have to come out now."
"Of course!" Patricia started at the decision in Miss Brent's tone.
She looked across at Bowen, who was regarding Lady Tanagra with an
admiration that amounted almost to reverence. As he looked up
Patricia's eyes fell. What was happening to her? She was getting
further into the net woven by her own folly. Lady Tanagra was getting
them out of the tangle into which they had got themselves; but was she
not involving them in a worse? Patricia knew her aunt, Lady Tanagra
did not. Therein lay the key to the whole situation.
Miss Brent rose to go. Patricia saw that judgment was to be deferred.
She shook hands with Lady Tanagra and Bowen and, finally, turning to
Patricia said:
"I think, Patricia, that you have been very indiscreet in not taking me
into your confidence, your sole surviving relative," and with that she
went, having refused Lady Tanagra's offer to drive her to her hotel,
pleading that she had another call to make.
When Bowen returned from seeing Miss Brent into a taxi, the three
culprits regarded each other. All felt that they had come under the
ban of Miss Brent's displeasure. It was Lady Tanagra who broke the
silence.
"Well, we're all in it now up to the neck," she laughed.
Bowen smiled happily; but Patricia looked alarmed. Lady Tanagra went
over to her and bending down kissed her lightly on the cheek. Patricia
looked up, and Bowen saw that her eyes were suspiciously moist. With a
murmured apology about a note he was expecting he left the room.
That night the three dined at the Quadrant, "to get to know each
other," as Lady Tanagra said. When Patricia reached Galvin House,
having refused to allow Bowen to see her home, she was conscious of
having spent another happy evening.
"Up to the neck in it," she murmured as she tossed back her hair and
began to brush it for the night, "over the top of our heads, I should
say."