Presently he heard a smothered "O sir!" and looked round to discover the housemaid in an attitude of unmitigated adoration before what he could not deny was a perfect dream of a hat--the sort of a hat that only a woman or a society reporter could do justice to. In his vision it bore a striking resemblance to a Gainsborough with all modern improvements--as most big hats do to most men. Briefly, it was big and black and trimmed with an atmosphere of costly simplicity, a monstrous white "willow" plume and a huge buckle of brilliants. It impressed him, hazily, as just the very hat to look ripping on an ash-blonde. Aside from this he was aware of no sensation other than one of aggravated annoyance. Milly, to the reverse extreme, was charmed to distraction, thrilled to the core of her and breathless--though by no means dumb. Women are never dumb with admiration. "O sir!" she breathed in ecstasy--"it's a real creashun!" "Daresay," Staff conceded sourly. "Did you find a note?" "And the price-tag, sir--it says _twen_-ty five pounds!" "I hope there's a receipted bill, then.... Do you see anything remotely resembling a note--or something?" With difficulty subduing her transports--"I'll see, sir," said Milly. Grunting with exasperation, Staff bent over a trunk and stuffed things into it until Milly committed herself to the definite announcement: "I don't seem to find nothing, sir." "Look again, please." Again Milly pawed the tissue-paper. "There ain't nothing at all, sir," she declared finally. Staff stood up, thrust his hands into his pockets and champed the stem of his pipe--scowling. "It is a bit odd, sir, isn't it?--having this sent to you like this and you knowing nothing at all about it!" Staff said something indistinguishable because of the obstructing pipe-stem. "It's perfectly beautiful, sir--a won'erful hat, really." "The devil fly away with it!" "Beg pardon, sir?" "I said, I'm simply crazy about it, myself." "Oh, did you, sir?" "Please put it back and tie it up." "Yessir." Reluctantly Milly restored the creation to its tissue-paper nest. "And what would you wish me to do with it now, sir?" she resumed when at length the ravishing vision was hidden away. "Do with it?" stormed the vexed gentleman. "I don't care what the d--ickens you do with it. It isn't my hat. Take it away. Throw it into the street. Send it back to the place it came from. Give it ... or, wait!" Pausing for breath and thought, he changed his mind. The hat was too valuable to be treated with disrespect, no matter who was responsible for the mistake. Staff felt morally obligated to secure its return to the Maison Lucille. "Look here, Milly ..." "Yessir?" "I'll just telephone ... No! Half a minute!"