But though Staff was grateful for Milly because of this strong and unconventional individuality of hers, he wasn't at all pleased to be interrupted, and he made nothing whatever of the ostensible excuse for the interruption; the latter being a very large and brilliantly illuminated bandbox, which Milly was offering him in pantomime. "It have just come," said Milly calmly, in response to his enquiring stare. "Where would you wish me to put it, sir?" "Put what?" Milly gesticulated eloquently with the bandbox. "That thing?" said Staff with scorn. "Yessir." "I don't want you to put it anywhere. Take it away." "But it's for you, sir." "Impossible. Some mistake. Please don't bother--just take it away. There's a good girl." Milly's disdain of this blandishment was plainly visible in the added elevation of her already sufficiently tucked-up nose. "Beg pardon, sir," she persisted coldly, "but it's got your nime on it, and the boy as left it just now asked if you lived here." Staff's frown portrayed indignation, incredulity and impatience. "Mistake, I tell you. I haven't been buying any millinery. Absurd!" "Beg pardon, sir, but you can see as it's addressed to you." It was: the box being held out for examination, Staff saw plainly that it was tagged with a card inscribed in fashionably slapdash feminine handwriting with what was unquestionably the name and local address of Benjamin Staff, Esq. Because of this, he felt called upon to subject the box to more minute inspection. It was nothing more nor less than the everyday milliners' hat-box of commerce: a capacious edifice of stout pasteboard neatly plastered with wall-paper in whose design narrow stripes of white alternated with aggressive stripes of brown, the whole effectively setting off an abundance of purple blossoms counterfeiting no flower known to botanists. And one gibbous side was further decorated with bold black script advertising the establishment of its origin. "_Maison Lucille, New Bond Street, West_," Staff read aloud, completely bewildered. "But I never heard of the d---- the place!" Helplessly he sought Milly's eyes, and helpfully Milly rose to the occasion. "Nossir," said she; and that was all. "I know nothing whatever about the thing," Staff declared severely. "It's all a mistake. Take it away--it'll be sent for as soon as the error's discovered." A glimmer of intelligence shone luminous in Milly's eyes. "Mebbe," she suggested under inspiration of curiosity--"Mebbe if you was to open it, you'd find a note or--or something." "Bright girl!" applauded Staff. "You open it. I'm too busy--packing up--no time--" And realising how swiftly the golden minutes were fleeting beyond recall, he cast desperately about for his pipe. By some miracle he chanced to find it, and so resumed packing. Behind him, Milly made noises with tissue-paper.