Mr. Muskett glared at him, swung round on his heel and joined Mr. Tuddenham at the other end of the room.
"Seem to 'ave trod on 'is toes," muttered Bindle as he watched Mr. Muskett obviously explaining to Mr. Tuddenham the insult to which he had just been subjected.
Bindle looked about him with interest, the only guest who seemed thoroughly comfortable and at home. Suddenly his eye caught sight of the text above the refreshment-table, and he grinned broadly. Looking about him for someone to share the joke, he took a step towards his nearest neighbour, Miss Torkington.
"Ain't 'e a knock-out!" he remarked, nudging her with his elbow.
"I beg your pardon!" said Miss Torkington, lifting her chin and folding her hands before her.
"'Im, 'Earty," said Bindle, "ain't 'e a knock-out! Look at that! 'So shall Ye All Likewise Perish,'" he read. "Fancy sticking that up over the grub."
Miss Torkington, her hands still folded before her, with head in the air, wheeled round and walked away in what she conceived to be a dignified manner.
Bindle slowly turned and watched her.
"Quaint old bird," he muttered. "I wonder wot I said to 'urt 'er feelin's."
The glee-party of four had formed up near the harmonium. Mr. Hearty was in earnest conversation with the leader. He wished to see Lady Knob-Kerrick's arrival heralded with appropriate music. The leader of the singers was a man whose serious visage convinced Mr. Hearty that to him might safely be left the selection of "the extra" that was to welcome the patroness of the occasion. Mr. Hearty was unaware that in the leader's heart was a smouldering anger against Lady Knob-Kerrick on account of her rudeness in the recent correspondence that had taken place. Furthermore, he had already received his fee.