r
before dinner, settled himself in a luxurious arm-chair in the middle
of the room, and--fell asleep. Half an hour later, pretty Miss
Tristan came rustling into the room with her coolest and sweetest
dress on. She gave a start of surprise when she saw a man there,
stepped forward, thinking that it was the distinguished guest himself,
stopped again, seeing that he was fast asleep, and then taking a swift
woman's glance at him, sped softly out of the room.

"Aunty, what do you think?" said she, breathlessly, running into that
lady's room. "Signor Barbazzo is in the parlor, sound asleep in the
big chair!"

"What are you saying, child? Signor Barbazzo in the parlor asleep!
Nonsense!"

"But it must be he. Who else can it be? Hasn't he got long black
hair?"

"Yes. And no beard or mustache? and a swarthy complexion?"

"Yes, yes."

"Well," said the aunt, wearily, "I suppose he has come in tired. Doing
what he pleases, as they all do. But he mustn't be disturbed, on any
account. I wish I was there to manage him. The other day at Mrs.
Vicar's he went away in the middle of the dinner because the macaroni
wasn't right. He'll do something dreadful, I suppose. Now be sure.
_Don't_ begin by making him cross. So if he should sleep an hour, keep
the people quiet at all hazards, and let him sleep two hours if he
wants to."

Poor Miss Tristan went back to the post of duty oppressed with a great
responsibility. The servant was stationed at the door to prevent any
ringing of the bell, and as the guests came in one by one, they were
warned in whispers not to rouse the sleeping lion. Very soon Mrs.
Gottom's drawing-room presented a striking example of the homage due
to genius. The guests stood about in little groups, conversing in the
most timid whispers, and even making signs take the place of language,
glancing every moment at the supposed great man in the chair, who had
his legs stretched out before him, his head thrown back, and was, if
it must be confessed, snoring audibly, not to say visibly. There was
Professor Phyle, the celebrated phrenologist--a tall man, with a gaunt
face and long gray hair. He had been a lion once, but was now out of
date. There were also present Mrs. Blenkin, a comparatively new
soprano, having seen only two seasons; Lieutenant Wray, a lion just
caught, or rather polar bear, having only then returned from a trip to
the arctic regions, in which his ship had covered itself with glory; a
young lady who h