"'E took us into a swell place an' stood us a dinner. Lord, 'ow they did look to see us, me an' Wilkie in our aprons, 'is Lordship in 'is red tabs an' a gold rim to 'is cap, an' a red band round it."
Bindle was enjoying himself hugely, especially as he saw that Angell Herald was becoming more and more uncomfortable.
"We 'ad champagne an' oysters, an' soup an'—— Well I thought Wilkie 'ud never stop." He broke off to light his pipe, when it was in full blast he continued.
"Presently a cove in an 'igh collar comes up an' says polite like to 'is lordship—
"'Would you kindly ask that gentleman to 'urry with 'is soup, sir,' meanin' Wilkie, 'there's a gentleman over there wot says 'e can't 'ear the band, an' this is 'is favourite tune.'"
"Mr. Bindle!" cried Sallie, who is very sensitive upon the subject of table manners.
"I'm sorry, miss, but you see poor ole Wilkie never 'ad no mother to teach 'im. Yes," he continued, "we 'ad a rare ole time, me an' Wilkie."
Angell Herald looked from Bindle to Windover. His veneer of self-complacency had been badly punctured.
"By the way, J.B.," said Windover, "I want you to come to lunch with me again on Saturday. You'll come, Little and you, Boy."
It was Bindle's turn to look surprised. That is how he got a real "dinner" with a lord, and Angell Herald had a lesson by which he probably failed to profit. To this day he believes Bindle's story of the mythical lunch. Bindle has never forgiven Angell Herald his "men's stories," and he unites with the Boy in scoring off him whenever possible. Sometimes Dick Little and I have to take a strong line with both delinquents. Fortunately Angell Herald is more often than not oblivious of what is taking place.