I am afraid that Poopendyke found me in a particularly irascible frame of mind the next morning. I know that Britton did. I thought better of my determination to discharge Britton. He was an exceptionally good servant and a loyal fellow, so why should I deprive myself of a treasure simply because the eastern wing of my abode was inhabited by an unfeeling creature who hadn't a thought beyond fine feathers and bonbons? I was not so charitably inclined toward Hawkes and Blatchford, who were in my service through an influence over which I did not appear to have any control. They would have to go. "Mr. Poopendyke," said I, after Blatchford had left the breakfast room, "I want you to give notice to Hawkes and Blatchford to-day." "Notice?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Notice," said I, very distinctly. He looked distressed. "I thought they were most; satisfactory to you." "I've changed my opinion." "By Jove, Mr. Smart, I--I don't know how the Countess will take such high-handed--ahem! You see, sir, she--she was good enough to recommend them to me. It will be quite a shock to--" "By the Lord Harry, Fred, am I to--" "Don't misunderstand me," he made haste to say. "This is your house. You have a perfect right to hire and discharge, but--but--Don't you think you'd better consider very carefully--" He seemed to be finding his collar rather tight. I held up my hand. "Of course I do not care to offend the Countess Tarnowsy. It was very kind of her to recommend them. We--we will let the matter rest for a few days." "She has informed me that you were especially pleased with the manner in which they served the dinner the other night. I think she said you regarded them as incomparable diadems, or something of the sort. It may have been the champagne." My thoughts leaped backward to that wonderful dinner. "It wasn't the champagne," said I, very stiffly. "Do you also contemplate giving notice to the chef and his wife, our only chambermaid?" "No, I don't," I snapped. "I think they were in bed." He looked at me as if he thought I had gone crazy. I wriggled uncomfortably in my chair for a second or two, and then abruptly announced that we'd better get to work. I have never ceased to wonder what construction he could have put on that stupid slip of the tongue. I cannot explain why, but at the slightest unusual sound that morning I found myself shooting an involuntary glance at the imperturbable features of Ludwig the Red. Sometimes I stopped in the middle of a sentence, to look and to listen rather more intently than seemed absolutely necessary, and on each occasion I was obliged to begin the sentence all over again, because, for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was I had set out to say in dictation. Poopendyke had an air of patient tolerance about him that irritated me intensely. More than once I thought I detected him in the act of suppressing a smile.