Sir Henry held out the hat.
“But Nora doesn't seriously suppose that the Germans come over in this sort of headgear, does she?” he demanded.
“If you'll just look inside the lining, sir,” Sinclair suggested.
Sir Henry turned it up and whistled softly. “By Jove, it's a German hat, all right!” he exclaimed. “Doesn't look a bad shape, either.”
He tried it on. There was a little peal of laughter from the men. Philippa had ceased her knitting and was watching from the couch. Sir Henry looked at himself in the looking-glass.
“Well, that's funny,” he observed. “I shouldn't have thought it would have been so much too small for me. Here, just try how you'd look in it, Mr. Lessingham,” he added, handing it across to him.
Lessingham accepted the situation quite coolly, and placed the hat carefully on his head.
“It doesn't feel particularly comfortable,” he remarked.
“That may be,” Sir Henry suggested, “because you have it on wrong side foremost. If you'd just turn it round, I believe you would find it a very good fit.”
Lessingham at once obeyed. Sir Henry regarded him with admiration.