Page:Herbert Jenkins - Patricia Brent Spinster.djvu/113

 Bowen compressed his lips and wrinkled his forehead; but there was laughter in his eyes.

"It's difficult, isn't it, Patricia?" he said.

"It's absurd, and please don't call me Patricia."

"But we're engaged and"

"We're nothing of the sort," she said.

"But we are," protested Bowen. "I can"

"Never mind what you can do," she retorted. "What am I to tell Aunt Adelaide at half-past five to-morrow evening?"

"Why not tell her the truth?" said Bowen.

"Isn't that just like a man?" Patricia addressed the query to a deer that was eyeing the car curiously from some fifty yards distance. "Tell the truth," she repeated scornfully. "But how much will that help us?"

"Well! let's tell a lie," protested Bowen, smiling.

And then Patricia did a weak and foolish thing, she laughed, and Bowen laughed. Finally they sat and looked at each other helplessly.

"However you got those," she nodded at the ribbons on his breast, "I don't know. It was certainly not for being intelligent."

For a minute Bowen did not reply. He was apparently lost in thought. Presently he turned to Patricia.

"Look here," he said, "by half-past five to-morrow afternoon I'll have found a solution. Now can't we talk about something pleasant?"

"There is nothing pleasant to talk about when