MR. TRIGGS TAKES TEA IN KENSINGTON GARDENS
I
"Well, me dear, 'ow goes it?"
Mr. Triggs flooded the room with his genial person, mopping his brow
with a large bandana handkerchief, and blowing a cheerful protest
against the excessive heat.
Patricia looked up from her work and greeted him with a tired smile, as
he collapsed heavily upon a chair, which creaked ominously beneath his
weight.
"When you're sixty-two in the shade it ain't like being twenty-five in
the sun," he said, laughing happily at his joke.
"Now you must sit quiet and be good," admonished Patricia. "I'm busy
with beetles."
"Busy with what?" demanded Mr. Triggs arresting the process of fanning
himself with his handkerchief.
"The potato-beetle," explained Patricia. "There is no lack of variety
in the life of an M.P.'s secretary: babies and beetles, pigs and
potatoes, meat and margarine, they all have their allotted place."
"Arthur works you too 'ard, me dear, I'm afraid," said Mr. Triggs. "I
must speak to 'im about it."
"Oh, Mr. Triggs! You mustn't do anything of the sort. He's most kind
and considerate, and if I am here I must do what he wants."
"But beetles and babies and potatoes, me dear," said Mr. Triggs.
"That's more than a joke."
"Oh! you don't know what a joke a beetle can be," said Patricia,
looking up and laughing in spite of herself at the expression of
anxiety on Mr. Triggs's face.
Mr. Triggs mumbled something to himself.
"God bless my soul!" he exclaimed a moment after. "'Ere am I,
forgetting what I come about. I've seen _The Morning Post_, me dear."
Patricia pushed back her chair from the table and turned and faced Mr.
Triggs.
"Mr. Triggs," she said, "if you mention the words _Morning Post_ to me
again I think I shall kill you."
Mr. Triggs's hands dropped to his side as he gazed at her in blank
astonishment. "But, me dear----" he began.
"The engagement has been broken off," announced Patricia.
Mr. Triggs's jaw dropped, and he gazed at Patricia in amazement.
"Broken off," he repeated. "Engagement broken off. Why, damn 'im,
I'll punch 'is 'ead," and he made an effort to rise.
Patricia laughed, a little hysterically.
"You mustn't blame Lord Peter," she said. "It is I who have broken it
off."
Mr. Triggs collapsed into the chair again. "You broke it off," he
exclaimed. "You broke off the engagement with a nice young chap like
'im?"
Patricia nodded.
"Well, I'm blowed!" Mr. Triggs sat staring at Patricia as if she had
suddenly become transformed into a dodo. After nearly a minute's
contemplation of Patricia, a smile slowly spread itself over his
features, like the sun breaking through a heavy cloud-laden sky.
"You been 'avin' a quarrel, that's what's the matter," he announced
with a profound air of wisdom.
Patricia shook her head with an air of finality; but Mr. Triggs
continued to nod his head wisely.
"That's what's the matter," he muttered. "Why," he added, "you'll
never get another young chap like 'im. Took a great fancy to 'im, I
did. Now all you've got to do is just to kiss and make it up. Then
you'll feel 'appier than ever afterwards."
Patricia realised the impossibility of conveying to Mr. Triggs that her
decision was irrevocable. Furthermore she was anxious that he should
go, as she had promised to get out certain statistics for Mr. Bonsor.
"Now you really must go, Mr. Triggs. You won't think me horrid, will
you, but I had a half-holiday the other day, and now I must work and
make up for it. That's only fair, isn't it?"
"Very well, me dear, I can't stay. I'll be off and get out of your
way. Now don't forget. Make it up, kiss and be friends. That's my
motto."
"It isn't a quarrel, Mr. Triggs; but it's no use trying to explain to
anyone so sweet and nice as you. Anyhow, I have broken off the
engagement, and Lord Peter is in no way to blame."
"Well, good-bye, me dear. I'll see you again soon," said Mr. Triggs,
still nodding his head with genial conviction as to the rightness of
his diagnosis. "And now I'll be trottin'. Don't forget," and with a
final look over his shoulder and another nod of wisdom he floated out
of the room, seeming to leave it cold and bare behind him.
"Well, I'm blowed!" he muttered as he walked away from Eaton Square.
Arrived at the corner of Eaton Place, he stood still as if uncertain
what direction to take. Seeing a crawling taxi he suddenly seemed
inspired with an idea.
"Hi! Hi! Taxi!" he shouted, waving his umbrella. Having secured the
taxi and given the man instructions to drive to the Quadrant, he hauled
himself in and sat down with a sigh of satisfaction.
It was a few minutes to one as he asked for Lord Peter Bowen at the
enquiry-office of the Quadrant. Two minutes later Peel descended in
the lift to inform him that his Lordship had not yet returned to lunch.
Was Mr. Triggs expected?
"Well, no," confessed Mr. Triggs, looking at Peel a little uncertainly.
"'E wasn't expecting me; but 'e asked me the other night if I'd call in
when I was passing, and as I was passing I called in, see?"
For a moment Peel seemed to hesitate.
"His Lordship has a luncheon engagement, sir," he said; "but he could
no doubt see you for two or three minutes if he asked you to call.
Perhaps you will step this way."
Before Mr. Triggs had a chance of doing as was suggested, Peel had
turned aside.
"No, my lady, his Lordship is not in yet; but he will not be more than
a minute or two. This gentleman," he looked at the card, "Mr. Triggs,
is----"
"Oh, Mr. Triggs, how do you do?" cried Lady Tanagra, extending her hand.
Mr. Triggs looked at the exquisite little vision before him in surprise
and admiration. He took the proffered hand as if it had been a piece
of priceless porcelain.
"I'm Lord Peter's sister, you know. I've heard all about you from
Patricia. Do come up and let us have a chat before my brother comes."
Mr. Triggs followed Lady Tanagra into the lift, too surprised and
bewildered to make any response to her greeting. As the lift slid
upwards he mopped his brow vigorously with his handkerchief.
When they were seated in Bowen's sitting-room he at last found voice.
"I just been to see 'er," he said.
"Who, Patricia?" asked Lady Tanagra.
Mr. Triggs nodded, and there was a look in his eyes which implied that
he was not at all satisfied with what he had seen.
"Quarrelled, 'aven't they?"' he asked.
"Well," began Lady Tanagra, not quite knowing how much Mr. Triggs
actually knew of the circumstances of the case.
"Said she'd broken it off. I gave her a talking to, I did. She'll
never get another young chap like 'im."
"Did you tell her so?" asked Lady Tanagra.
"Tell her so, I should think I did!" said Mr. Triggs, "and more than
once too."
"Oh, you foolish, foolish man!" cried Lady Tanagra, wringing her hands
in mock despair. A moment afterwards she burst out laughing at the
comical look of dismay on Mr. Triggs's face.
"What 'ave I done?" he cried in genuine alarm.
"Why, don't you see that you have implied that all the luck is on her
side, and that will make her simply furious?"
"But--but----" began Mr. Triggs helplessly, looking very much like a
scolded child.
"Now sit down," ordered Lady Tanagra with an irresistible smile, "and
I'll tell you. My brother wants to marry Patricia, and Patricia, for
some reason best known to herself, says that it can't be done. Now I'm
sure that she is fond of Peter; but he has been so impetuous that he
has rather taken her breath away. I've never known him like it
before," said Lady Tanagra plaintively.
"But 'e's an awfully lucky fellow if 'e gets 'er," broke in Mr. Triggs,
as if feeling that something were required of him.
"Why, of course he is," said Lady Tanagra. "Now will you help us, Mr.
Triggs?"
Lady Tanagra looked at him with an expression that would have extracted
a promise of help from St. Anthony himself.
"Of course I will, me dear. I--I beg your pardon," stuttered Mr.
Triggs.
"Never mind, let it stand at that," said Lady Tanagra gaily. "I'm sure
we're going to be friends, Mr. Triggs."
"Knew it the moment I set eyes on you," said Mr. Triggs with conviction.
"Well, we've got to arrange this affair for these young people," said
Lady Tanagra with a wise air. "First of all we've got to prove to
Patricia that she is really in love with Peter. If she's not in love
with him, then we've got to make her in love with him. Do you
understand?"
Mr. Triggs nodded his head with an air that clearly said he was far
from understanding.
"Well, now," said Lady Tanagra. "Patricia knows only three people that
know Peter. There is you, Godfrey Elton, and myself. Now if she's in
love with him she will want to hear about him, and----"
"But ain't she going to see 'im?" demanded Mr. Triggs incredulously.
"No, she says that she doesn't want Peter ever to see her, write to
her, telephone to her, or, as far as I can see, exist on the same
planet with her."
"But--but----" began Mr. Triggs.
"It's no good reasoning with a woman, Mr. Triggs, we women are all as
unreasonable as the Income Tax. Now if you'll do as you are told we
will prove that Patricia is wrong."
"Very well, me dear," began Mr. Triggs.
"Now this is my plan," interrupted Lady Tanagra. "If Patricia really
cares for Peter she will want to hear about him from friends. She
will, very cleverly, as she thinks, lead up the conversation to him
when she meets you, or when she meets Godfrey Elton, or when she meets
me. Now what we have to do is just as carefully to avoid talking about
him. Turn the conversation on to some other topic. Now we've all got
to plot and scheme and plan like--like----"
"Germans," interrupted Mr. Triggs.
"Splendid!" cried Lady Tanagra, clapping her hands.
"But why has she changed her mind?" asked Mr. Triggs.
"You must never ask a woman why she changes her frock, or why she
changes her mind, because she never really knows," said Lady Tanagra.
"Probably she does it because she hasn't got anything else particular
to do at the moment. Ah! here's Peter," she cried.
Bowen came forward and shook hands cordially with Mr. Triggs.
"This is splendid of you!" he said. "You'll lunch with us, of course."
"Oh no, no," said Mr. Triggs. "I just ran in to--to----"
"To get to know me," said Lady Tanagra with a smile.
"Of course! That's it," cried Mr. Triggs, beaming. "I can't stop to
lunch though, I'm afraid. I must be going to----"
"Have you got a luncheon engagement?" asked Lady Tanagra.
"Er--well, yes."
"Please don't tell fibs, Mr. Triggs. You're not engaged to lunch with
anybody, and you're going to lunch with us, so that's settled."
"Why, bless my soul!" blew Mr. Triggs helplessly as he mopped his head
with his handkerchief. "Why, bless my soul!"
"It's no good, Mr. Triggs. When Tanagra wants anything she has it,"
said Bowen with a laugh. "It doesn't matter whether it's the largest
pear or the nicest man!"
Lady Tanagra laughed. "Now we'll go down into the dining-room."
For an hour and a half they talked of Patricia, and at the end of the
meal both Lady Tanagra and Bowen knew that they had a firm ally in Mr.
Triggs.
"Don't forget, Mr. Triggs," cried Lady Tanagra as she bade him good-bye
in the vestibule. "You're a match-maker now, and you must be very
careful."
And Mr. Triggs lifted his hat and waved his umbrella as, wreathed in
smiles, he trotted towards the revolving doors and out into the street.
After he had gone Lady Tanagra extracted from Bowen a grudging promise
of implicit obedience. He must not see, telephone, write or telegraph
to Patricia. He was to eliminate himself altogether.
"But for how long, Tan?" he enquired moodily.
"It may be for years and it may be for ever," cried Lady Tanagra gaily
as she buttoned her gloves. "Anyhow, it's your only chance."
"Damn!" muttered Bowen under his breath as he watched her disappear;
"but I'll give it a trial."
II
The next afternoon as Patricia walked down the steps of Number 426
Eaton Square and turned to the left, she was conscious that in spite of
the summer sunshine the world was very grey about her. She had not
gone a hundred yards before Lady Tanagra's grey car slid up beside her.
"Will you take pity on me, Patricia? I'm at a loose end," cried Lady
Tanagra.
Patricia turned with a little cry of pleasure.
"Jump in," cried Lady Tanagra. "It's no good refusing a Bowen. Our
epidermises are too thick, or should it be epidermi?"
Patricia shook her head and laughed as she seated herself beside Lady
Tanagra.
The car crooned its way up Sloane Street and across into Knightsbridge,
Lady Tanagra intent upon her driving.
"Is it indiscreet to ask where you are taking me?" enquired Patricia
with elaborate humility.
Lady Tanagra laughed as she jammed on the brake to avoid running into
the stern of a motor-omnibus.
"I feel like a pirate to-day. I want to run away with someone, or do
something desperate. Have you ever felt like that?"
"A politician's secretary must not encourage such unrespectable
instincts," she replied.
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."
Patricia looked across at Lady Tanagra in surprise, but said nothing.
"I told him," continued Lady Tanagra evenly, "that I would not have my
friendship with you spoiled through his impetuous blundering. I think
I told him he was suburban. In fact I quite bullied the poor boy. So
now," she added with the air of one who has earned a lifelong debt of
gratitude, "you will be able to go your way without fear of the
ubiquitous Peter."
Still Patricia said nothing as she sat looking down upon the empty
plate before her.
"Now we will forget all about Peter and talk and think of other things.
Ah! here he is," she cried suddenly.
Patricia looked round quickly; but at the sight of Godfrey Elton she
was conscious of a feeling of disappointment that she would not,
however, admit. Her greeting of Elton was a trifle forced.
Patricia was never frank with herself. If it had been suggested that
for a moment she hoped that Lady Tanagra's remark referred to Bowen,
she would instantly have denied it.
"No, Godfrey, don't look at me like that," cried Lady Tanagra. "I am
not so gauche as to arrange a parti-a-trois. I've got someone very
nice coming for Patricia."
Again Patricia felt herself thrill expectantly. Five minutes later Mr.
Triggs was seen sailing along among the tables as if in search of
someone. Again Patricia felt that sense of disappointment she had
experienced on the arrival of Godfrey Elton.
Suddenly Mr. Triggs saw the party and streamed towards them, waving his
red silk handkerchief in one hand and his umbrella in the other.
"He has found something better than the fountain of eternal youth,"
said Elton to Patricia.
"Whatever it is he is unconscious of possessing it," replied Patricia
as she turned to greet Mr. Triggs.
"I'm late, I know," explained Mr. Triggs as he shook hands. "I 'ad to
run in and see 'Ettie and tell 'er I was coming. It surprised 'er,"
and Mr. Triggs chuckled as if at some joke he could not share with the
others.
"Now let us have tea," said Lady Tanagra. "I'm simply dying for it."
Mr. Triggs sank down heavily into a basket chair. He looked about
anxiously, as it creaked beneath his weight, as if in doubt whether or
no it would bear him.
"All we want now is----" Mr. Triggs stopped suddenly and looked
apprehensively at Lady Tanagra.
"What is it you want, Mr. Triggs?" enquired Patricia quickly.
"Er--er--I--I forget, I--I forget," floundered Mr. Triggs, still
looking anxiously at Lady Tanagra.
"When you're in the company of women, Mr. Triggs, you should never
appear to want anything else. It makes an unfavourable impression upon
us."
"God bless my soul, I don't!" cried Mr. Triggs earnestly. "I've been
looking forward to this ever since I got your wire yesterday afternoon."
"Now he has given me away," cried Lady Tanagra. "How like a man!"
"Given you away, me dear!" cried Mr. Triggs anxiously. "What 'ave I
done?"
"Why, you have told these two people here that made an assignation with
you by telegram."
"Made a what, me dear?" enquired Mr. Triggs, his forehead corrugated
with anxiety.
"Lady Tanagra is taking a mean advantage of the heat, Mr. Triggs," said
Elton.
"Anyway, I'll forgive you anything, Mr. Triggs, as you have come," said
Lady Tanagra.
Mr. Triggs's brow cleared and he smiled.
"Come! I should think I would come," he said.
Lady Tanagra then explained her meeting with Mr. Triggs and how he had
striven to avoid her company at luncheon on the previous day. Mr.
Triggs protested vigorously.
During the tea the conversation was entirely in the hands of Lady
Tanagra, Elton and Mr. Triggs. Patricia sat silently listening to the
others. Several times Lady Tanagra and Mr. Triggs exchanged meaning
glances.
"Why ain't you talking, me dear?" Mr. Triggs once asked.
"I like to hear you all," said Patricia, smiling across at him.
"You're all too clever for me," she added.
"Me clever!" cried Mr. Triggs, and then as if the humour of the thing
had suddenly struck him he went off into gurgles of laughter. "You
ought to tell 'Ettie that," he spluttered. "She thinks 'er old
father's a fool. Me clever!" he repeated, and again he went off into
ripples of mirth.
"What are your views on love, Mr. Triggs?" demanded Lady Tanagra
suddenly.
Mr. Triggs gazed at her in surprise.
Then he looked from Patricia to Elton, as if not quite sure whether or
no he were expected to be serious.
"If I were you I should decline to reply. Lady Tanagra treats serious
subjects flippantly," said Elton. "Her attitude towards life is to
prepare a pancake as if it were a souffle."
"That proves the Celt in me," cried Lady Tanagra. "If I were English I
should make a souffle as if it were a pancake."
Mr. Triggs looked from one to the other in obvious bewilderment.
"I am perfectly serious in my question," said Lady Tanagra, without the
vestige of a smile. "Mr. Triggs is elemental."
"To be elemental is to be either indelicate or overbearing," murmured
Elton, "and Mr. Triggs is neither."
"Love, me dear?" said Mr. Triggs, not in the least understanding the
trend of the conversation. "I don't think I've got any ideas about it."
"Surely you are not a cynic. Mr. Triggs," demanded Lady Tanagra.
"A what?" enquired Mr. Triggs.
"Surely you believe in love," said Lady Tanagra.
"Me and Mrs. Triggs lived together 'appily for over thirty years," he
replied gravely, "and when a man an' woman 'ave lived together for all
that time they get to believe in love. It's never been the same since
she died." His voice became a little husky, and Elton looked at Lady
Tanagra, who lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Triggs. Will you tell us about--about----?" she broke
off.
"Well, you see, me dear," said Mr. Triggs in an uncertain voice, "I was
a foreman when I met 'er, and she was a servant; but--somehow or other
it seemed that we were just made for each other. Once I knew 'er, I
didn't seem to be able to see things without her. When I was at
work--I was in the building trade, foreman-carpenter," he explained, "I
used to be thinking of 'er all the time. If I went anywhere without
'er--she only had one night off a week and one day a month--I would
always keep thinking of how she would like what I was seeing, or
eating. It was a funny feeling," he added reminiscently as if entirely
unable to explain it. "Somehow or other I always wanted to 'ave 'er
with me, so that she might share what I was 'aving. It was a funny
feeling," he repeated, and he looked from one to another with moist
eyes. "Of course," he added, "I can't explain things like that. I'm
not clever."
"I think, Mr. Triggs, that you've explained love in--in----" Lady
Tanagra broke off and looked at Elton, who was unusually grave.
"Mr. Triggs has explained it," he replied, "in the only way in which it
can be explained, and that is by being defined as unexplainable."
Mr. Triggs looked at Elton for a moment, then nodded his head violently.
"That's it, Mr. Elton, that's it. It's a feeling, not a thing that you
can put into words."
Lady Tanagra looked at Patricia, who was apparently engrossed in the
waving tops of the trees.
"I shall always remember your definition of love, Mr. Triggs," said
Lady Tanagra with a far away look in her eyes. "I think you and Mrs.
Triggs must have been very happy together."
"'Appy, me dear, that wasn't the word for it," said Mr. Triggs. "And
when she was taken, I--I----" he broke off huskily and blew his nose
vigorously.
"Suppose you were very poor, Mr. Triggs," began Patricia.
"I was when I married," interrupted Mr. Triggs.
"Suppose you were very poor," continued Patricia, "and you loved
someone very rich. What would you do?"
"God bless my soul! I never thought of that. You see Emily 'adn't
anything. She only got sixteen pounds a year."
Lady Tanagra turned her head aside and blinked her eyes furiously.
"But suppose, Mr. Triggs," persisted Patricia, "suppose you loved
someone who was very rich and you were very poor. What would you do?
Would you tell them?"
For a moment Patricia allowed her eyes to glance in the direction of
Elton, and saw that his gaze was fixed upon Mr. Triggs.
"But what 'as money got to do with it?" demanded Mr. Triggs, a puzzled
expression on his face.
"Exactly!" said Patricia. "That's what I wanted to know."
"Money sometimes has quite a lot to do with life," remarked Elton to no
one in particular.
"With life, Mr. Elton," said Mr. Triggs; "but not with love."
"You are an idealist," said Lady Tanagra.
"Am I?" said Mr. Triggs, with a smile.
"And he is also a dear," said Patricia.
Mr. Triggs looked at her and smiled.
Lady Tanagra and Elton drove off, Patricia saying that she wanted a
walk. Mr. Triggs also declined Lady Tanagra's offer of a lift.
"She wanted me to bring 'er with me," announced Mr. Triggs as they
strolled along by the Serpentine.
"Who did?"' enquired Patricia.
"'Ettie. Ran up to change 'er things and sent out for a taxi."
"And what did you say?" enquired Patricia.
"I didn't say anything; but when the taxi come I just slipped in and
came along 'ere. Fancy 'Ettie and Lady Tanagra!" said Mr. Triggs.
"No," he added a moment later. "It's no good trying to be what you
ain't. If 'Ettie was to remember she's a builder's daughter, and not
think she's a great lady, she'd be much 'appier," said Mr. Triggs with
unconscious wisdom.
"Suppose I was to try and be like Mr. Elton," continued Mr. Triggs,
"I'd look like a fool."
"We all love to have you just as you are, Mr. Triggs, and we won't
allow you to change," said Patricia.
Mr. Triggs smiled happily. He was as susceptible to flattery as a
young girl.
"Well, it ain't much good trying to be what you're not. I've been a
working-man, and I'm not ashamed of it, and you and Lady Tanagra and
Mr. Elton ain't ashamed of being seen with me. But 'Ettie, she'd no
more be seen with 'er old father in Hyde Park than she'd be seen with
'im in a Turkish bath."
"We all have our weaknesses, don't you think?" said Patricia.
And Mr. Triggs agreed.
"You, for instance, have a weakness for High Society," continued
Patricia.
"Me, me dear!" exclaimed Mr. Triggs in surprise.
"Yes," said Patricia, "it's no good denying it. Don't you like knowing
Lord Peter and Lady Tanagra, Mr. Elton and all the rest of them?"
"It's not because they're in Society," began Mr. Triggs.
"Oh, yes it is! You imagine that you are now a very great personage.
Soon you will be moving from Streatham into Park Lane, and then you
will not know me."
"Oh, me dear!" said Mr. Triggs in distress.
"It's no good denying it," continued Patricia. "Look at the way you
made friends with Lord Peter." Patricia was priding herself on the way
in which she had led the conversation round to Bowen; but Mr. Triggs
was not to be drawn.
"God bless my soul!" he cried, stopping still and removing his hat,
mopping his brow vigorously. "I don't mind whether anyone has a title
or not. It's just them I like. Now look at Lady Tanagra. No one
would think she was a lady."
"Really, Mr. Triggs! I shall tell her if you take her character away
in this manner. She's one of the most exquisitely bred people I have
ever met."
Mr. Triggs looked reproachfully at Patricia.
"It's a bit 'ard on a young gal when she finds 'er father drops 'is
aitches," he remarked, reverting to his daughter. "I often wonder
whether I was right in giving 'Ettie such an education. She went to an
'Igh School at Eastmouth," he added. "It only made 'er dissatisfied.
It was 'ard luck 'er 'aving me for a father," he concluded more to
himself than to Patricia.
"I am perfectly willing to adopt you as a father, Mr. Triggs, if you
are in want of adoption," said Patricia.
Mr. Triggs turned to her with a sunny smile.
"Ah! you're different, me dear. You see you're a lady born, same as
Lady Tanagra; but 'Ettie ain't. That's what makes 'er sensitive like.
It's a funny world," Mr. Triggs continued; "if you go about with one
boot, and you 'appen to be a duke, people make a fuss of you because
you're a character; but if you 'appen to be a builder and go about in
the same way they call you mad."
That evening Patricia was particularly unresponsive to Mr. Bolton's
attempts to engage her in conversation.