"Who did that?" Rage had triumphed over self-control.
All eyes turned to the marble lineaments of the late Sir Benjamin's features. Never had that worthy knight presented so disreputable an appearance as he did with Huggles' hat stuck upon his head at a rakish angle.
"It must have been one of the workmen, my lady." Mr. Wilton tiptoed over to the bust and removed the offending headgear, placing it on a bundle of bedding.
"One of the workmen!" stormed Lady Knob-Kerrick. "Is everybody mad? What is being done with my drawing-room?"
Bindle stepped forward.
"We come from 'Arridges, mum, with the beds an' things for the soldiers."
"For the what?" demanded her ladyship.
"For the soldiers' billets, mum," explained Bindle. "You're goin' to billet sixteen soldiers 'ere."
"Billet sixteen soldiers!" almost screamed her ladyship, red in the face.
With great deliberation Bindle pulled out the delivery-note from behind his green baize apron, and read solemnly: "'Lady Knob-Kerrick, The Poplars, Putney 'Ill.' That's you, mum, ain't it?"