"You are mistaken again," said he, "that hat is green."

"Indeed?" quoth Mr. Wilding, like one surprised and he turned to
Trenchard, who was enjoying himself. "What is your own opinion of
it, Nick?"

Thus appealed to, Trenchard's reply was prompt. "Why, since you ask
me," said he, "my opinion is that it's a noisome thing not meet for
a gentleman's table." And he took it up, and threw it through the
window.

Sir Rowland was entirely put out of countenance. Here was a deliberate
shifting of the quarrel he had come to pick, which left him all at sea.
It was his duty to himself to take offence at Mr. Trenchard's action.
But that was not the business on which he had come. He became angry.

"Blister me!" he cried. "Must I sweep the cloth from the table before
you'll understand me?"

"If you were to do anything so unmannerly I should have you flung out
of the house," said Mr. Wilding, "and it would distress me so to treat
a person of your station and quality. The hat shall serve your purpose,
although Mr. Trenchard's concern for my table has removed it. Our
memories will supply its absence. What colour did you say it was?"

"I said it was green," answered Blake, quite ready to keep to the point.

"Nay, I am sure you were wrong," said Wilding with a grave air.
"Although I admit that since it is your own hat, you should be the best