"Will you see the American ladies and gentlemen who are coming to-morrow
to pick out the--"

"Yes, I'll see them," said I, compressing my lips. "Don't let me
over-sleep, Britton."

"I shan't, sir," said he.

Sleep evaded me for hours. What with the possible proximity of an
undesirable feminine neighbour, mysterious and elusive though she may
prove to be, and the additional dread of dogs and babies, to say nothing
of the amazing delinquencies to be laid to the late owner of the place,
and the prospect of a visit from coarse and unfeeling bargain-hunters
on the morrow, it is really not surprising that I tossed about in my
baronial bed, counting sheep backwards and forwards over hedges and
fences until the vociferous cocks in the stable yard began to send up
their clarion howdy-dos to the sun. Strangely enough, with the first
peep of day through the decrepit window shutters I fell into a sound
sleep. Britton got nothing but grunts from me until half-past nine.
At that hour he came into my room and delivered news that aroused me
more effectually than all the alarm clocks or alarm cocks in the world
could have done.

"Get up, sir, if you please," he repeated the third time. "The party
of Americans is below, sir, rummaging about the place. They have ordered
the workmen to stop work, sir, complaining of the beastly noise they
make, and the dust and all that, sir. They have already selected half
a dozen pieces and they have brought enough porters and carriers over
in the boats to take the stuff away in--"