ld before him, all smell and blue
smoke.

"'Old me, 'Orace!" murmured Bindle, who was in a direct line with the
door, "if it ain't the Ole Bird!"

Lady Knob-Kerrick entered, followed by Miss Strint, her companion and
echo. Casting one annihilating look at the speechless John, she gazed
with amazement at the disorder about her. Miss Strint gave vent to a
spasmodic giggle, which Lady Knob-Kerrick did not even notice. Her
gaze roved round the room as if she had found herself in unexpected
surroundings. Finally her eyes fixed themselves on Mr. Wilton.

"Wilton, what is that John is holding?" Lady Knob-Kerrick prided
herself on her self-control.

All eyes were immediately turned upon John, who shivered slightly.

"It is what they call a herring, a red-herring, my lady," responded
Wilton. "Poor people eat them, I believe."

"And what is it doing in my drawing-room?" demanded Lady Knob-Kerrick
with ominous calm.

"It was smellin', mum," broke in Bindle, "an' we was gettin' Calves to
take it out. It's all through Ginger, 'e likes tasty food; but 'e
ain't 'appy----"

"Hold your tongue!" said Lady Knob-Kerrick, turning to Bindle and
withering him through her lorgnettes.

She turned once more to her major-domo.

"Wilton," she demanded, "what is the meaning of this outrage?"

"It's the billets, my lady."

"The what?"

"The billets, my lady."

"I haven't ordered any billets. What are billets?"

Suddenly her eye caught sight of the bust of the late Sir Benjamin
Biggs.

"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 apro