simply looking for a
husband for Kalora. He did not hope to top the market or bring down any
notable catch. He favored any alliance that would result in no discredit
to his noble lineage.

"At present they do not even nibble," he soliloquized, still looking at
the ceiling. "They have taken fright for some reason. They may have an
inkling of the awful truth. She is nineteen. Next year she will be
twenty--the year after that twenty-one. Then it would be too late. A
desperate experiment is better than inaction. I have much to gain and
nothing to lose. I must exhibit Kalora. I shall bring the young men to
her. Some of them may take a fancy to her. I have seen people eat sugar
on tomatoes and pepper on ice-cream. There may be in Morovenia one--one
would be sufficient--one bachelor who is no stickler for full-blown
loveliness. I may find a man who has become inoculated with western
heresies and believes that a woman with intellect is desirable, even
though under weight. I may find a fool, or an aristocrat who has
gambled. I may stumble upon good fortune if I put her out among the
young men. Yes, I must exhibit her, but how--how?"

He began reaching into thin air for a pretext and found one. The
inspiration was simple and satisfying.

He would give a garden-party in honor of Mr. Rawley Plumston, the
British Consul. Of course he would have to invite Mrs. Plumston and
then, out of deference to European custom, he would have his two
daughters present. It was only by the use of imported etiquette that he
could open the way to direct courtship.

Possibly some of the cautious young noblemen would talk with Kalora,
and, finding her bright-eyed, witty, ready in conversation and with
enthusiasm for big and masculine undertakings, be attracted to her. At
the same time her father decided that there was no reason why her
pitiful shortage of avoirdupois should be candidly advertised. Even at a
garden-party, where the guests of honor are two English subjects, the
young women would be required to veil themselves up to the nose-tips and
hide themselves within a veritable cocoon of soft garments.

The invitations went out and the acceptances came in. The English were
flattered. Count Malagaski was buoyed by new hopes and the daughters
were in a day-and-night flutter, for neither of them had ever come
within speaking distance of the real young man of their dreams.

On the morning of the day set apart for the debut of Kalora, Count Selim