"The sixteen soldiers with all their kit," said Bindle. "I counted 'em," he added, as if to remove any glimmer of doubt that might still exist in Lady Knob-Kerrick's mind.
"Is everybody mad?" Lady Knob-Kerrick fixed her eyes upon Wilton. Wilton looked towards the door, which opened to admit John, who had seized the occasion of the diversion to slip out with Ginger's dinner.
"The soldiers, my lady," he announced.
There was a tremendous tramping on the stairs, and a moment afterwards fifteen soldiers in the charge of a sergeant streamed in, each bearing his kit-bag, rifle, etc.
The men gazed about them curiously.
The sergeant looked bewildered at so many people being grouped to receive them. After a hasty glance round he saluted Lady Knob-Kerrick, then he removed his cap, the men one by one sheepishly following suit.
"I hope we haven't come too soon, your ladyship?"
Lady Knob-Kerrick continued to stare at him through her lorgnettes. Wilton stepped forward.
"There has been a mistake. Her Ladyship cannot billet soldiers."
The sergeant looked puzzled. He drew a paper from his pocket, and read the address aloud: "'Lady Knob-Kerrick, The Poplars, Putney Hill, will billet sixteen soldiers in her drawing-room, she will also cater for them.'"