"You are King Solomon to-day, Guardian, aren't you,--instead of
other kings, as sometimes you are? And my great-aunt is the Queen
of Sheba. And--'there came no more such abundance of spices as
these which the Queen of Sheba gave to King Solomon. And gold, and
precious stones, and knops and flowers'--oh, see them all! And,
Guardian,--I mean King Solomon, DO you think there might be an
almug tree in the garden?"

When tea was over, the Colonel bowed the ladies out of the room
with punctilious courtesy, and motioned to Hugh to follow them;
then he turned to the two Merryweather boys.

"May I offer you cigars, young gentlemen?" he asked; and he took a
couple of cheroots from the mantel-piece.

The boys blushed bravely, but Phil said, quietly, "No, thank you,
sir. We are not going to smoke till we are twenty-one. Father
thinks that is soon enough."

The Colonel nodded approvingly. "Your father is right!" he said.
"Very right, indeed, my young friend. I beg you to take notice
that, though obliged by the laws of hospitality to offer you
cigars, I should have thought it unsuitable if you had accepted
them. Thirty years ago I should have been obliged to offer you
wine, also, but happily that is no longer necessary. Forty years
ago,--hum, ha! If you will permit me, I will smoke a cheroot for
the party. Your father prefers a pipe, I believe, but give me a
Manilla cheroot, and I am satisfied."