II

We begin on a fine May morning in Colonel Hugonin's rooms at Selwoode,
which is, as you may or may not know, the Hugonins' country-place.
And there we discover the Colonel dawdling over his breakfast, in an
intermediate stage of that careful toilet which enables him later in
the day to pass casual inspection as turning forty-nine.

At present the old gentleman is discussing the members of his
daughter's house-party. We will omit, by your leave, a number of
picturesque descriptive passages--for the Colonel is, on occasion, a
man of unfettered speech--and come hastily to the conclusion, to the
summing-up of the whole matter.

"Altogether," says Colonel Hugonin, "they strike me as being the most
ungodly menagerie ever gotten together under one roof since Noah
landed on Ararat."

Now, I am sorry that veracity compels me to present the Colonel
in this particular state of mind, for ordinarily he was as
pleasant-spoken a gentleman as you will be apt to meet on the
longest summer day.

[Illustration: "'Altogether,' says Colonel Hugonin, 'they strike me as
being the most ungodly menagerie ever gotten together under one roof
since Noah landed on Ararat.'"]

You must make allowances for the fact that, on this especial morning,