"Never mind, Mr. M'Arthur; I don't mind Sir Robert," Peggy said from the witness-box very sweetly.
"I am sure we shall get on very well," Sir Robert replied. "Now, Mrs. Admaston, I suppose you were very annoyed at finding you were in the wrong train?"
"I was annoyed, I suppose," Peggy answered; "but not very seriously. You see, it really didn't matter very much."
Sir Robert nodded his great bewigged head. "I suppose not," he said. "Was it your fault?"
The girl's clear accents rang out into the court. "I don't think it was anybody's fault, except the fussy customs officer's."
"This fussiness could have been avoided by registering the luggage through—yes?"
"I suppose so," Peggy answered Sir Robert.
The big man leant forward with the most ingratiating face. "Can you," he asked, "suggest any reason why the luggage was not registered?"
"I believe it was the mistake of a porter at Charing Cross."
"The mistake of a porter, the fussiness of a custom-house officer—quite a chapter of accidents!" Sir Robert continued blandly.