of the dear
friends we were entreating to honor us; and for the life of me I did not
know why such pains were taken to secure the presence of people for whom
none had a good wish nor a single kindly thought.

My father took very little part in the discussion; he sat there with a
sort of proud indifference, as though the matter had little interest for
him, and if a doubt were expressed as to the likelihood of this or that
person's acceptance, he would superciliously break in with, "He 'll
come, sir: I 'll answer for that. I have never yet played to empty
benches."

This vain and haughty speech dwelt in my mind for many a day, and showed
me how my father deemed that it was not his splendid style of living,
his exquisite dinners, and his choice wines that drew guests around him,
but his own especial qualities as host and entertainer.

"But that it involves the bore of an audience, I'd ask the king; I could
give him some Chateau d'Yquem very unlike his own, and such as, I'll
venture to say, he never tasted," said he, affectedly.

"So you are going to bring out the purple seal?" cried Cleremont.

"I might for royalty, sir; but not for such people as I read of in that
list there."

"Why, here are two Dukes with their Duchesses, Marquises and Counts by
the score, half-a-dozen ministers plenipotentiary, and a perfect cloud
of chamberlains and court swells."

"They 'd cut a great figure, I 've no doubt, Hotham, on the quarter-deck
of the 'Thunder Bomb,' where you eke out the defects of a bad band with
a salute from your big guns, and give your guests the national anthem
when they want champagne. Oh dear, there's no snob like a sailor!"

"Well, if they 're not good enough for you, why the devil do you ask
them?" cried Hotham, sturdily.

"Sir, if I were to put such a question to myself, I might shut up my
house to-morrow!" And with this very uncourteous speech he arose and
left the room.

We continued, however, to fill in the cards of invitation and address
the envelopes, but with little inclination to converse, and none
whatever to refer to what had passed.

"There," cried Cleremont, as he checked off the list. "That makes very
close on seven hundred. I take it I may order supper for six hundred."
Then turning half fiercely to me, he added: "Do you know, youngster,
that all this tomfoolery is got up for _you?_ It is by way of
celebrating your birthday we're going to turn the house out of the
windows!"

"I suppose