quarto sheet of notepaper on which was written "By the
instructions of Lady Knob-Kerrick, we are sending herewith goods as
per delivery-note. It is her Ladyship's wish that these be installed
by our men in her drawing-room, which it is her intention to turn into
a dormitory for billeting soldiers. Our men will do all the necessary
work."

As Mr. Wilton finished reading the note, Mrs. Marlings sailed into the
room. She was a woman of generous build, marvellously encased in black
silk, with a heavy gold chain round her neck from which hung a cameo
locket.

Mr. Wilton handed her the letter in silence. She ferreted about her
person for her glasses, which after some trouble she found. Placing
them upon her nose she read the communication slowly and deliberately.
Having done so she handed it back to Mr. Wilton.

"Her ladyship hasn't said anythink to me about the matter," she said
in an aggrieved tone.

"Nor me either," said Mr. Wilton.

Mrs. Marlings sniffed, as if there was nothing in her mistress not
having taken Mr. Wilton into her confidence.

"'Ere, come along, boys!" cried Bindle. "They don't seem to want these
'ere goods. We'd better take 'em back. Keep us 'ere all day at this
rate."

This remark seemed to galvanise Mr. Wilton into action.

"You had better do as you have been instructed," he said. This he felt
was a master-stroke by which he avoided all responsibility. He could
truthfully say that he had not given orders for the bedsteads and
bedding to be brought into the house.

From that moment Mr. Wilton's attitude towards the whole business was
one of detached superiority, which seemed to say, "Here is a matter
about which I have not been consulted. I shall merely await the
inevitable catastrophe, which I foresee, and as becomes a man,
endeavour to render such assistance as I can in gathering up the
pieces."

With great dignity he led the way to the drawing-room on the first
floor, followed by Bindle, Ginger and John. Mrs. Marlings disappeared
again into the shadows from which she had emerged. Once in the
drawing-room, Ginger began to disembarrass himself of his coat, and
with incomparable gloom proceeded to roll it up and place it upon the
mantelpiece beside the ormolu clock. Mr. Wilton stepped forward
quickly.

"Not there, my man," he said.

Ginger looked around with an expression on his face that caused Mr.
Wilton instinctively to recoil. It was in reality to Ginger's
countenance what to anoth