“Nothing at all, gov’nor. Tip it off. Do you good.”
“No, no, Tom, it’s champagne, and I—I—really, I—Now if it had been port.”
“Tip it up, gov’nor.”
“I shall investigate the whole matter, Robbins,” said a strident voice outside, and the door-handle began to turn.
“Hi! Stop! Dressing!” cried Tom, frantically.
“Do not tell untruths, sir,” exclaimed her ladyship, sternly, as she entered without the slightest hesitation. “Ah, as I expected. Wait, till the servants are gone. Robbins, take down that wine.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Not this, you don’t,” said Tom, seizing the gold-foiled bottle by the neck.
“You knew that Lord Diphoos was having cases of wine up in his bedroom, Robbins?”
“No, my lady.”