Leo Hunter’s usual course of proceedings being, to issue cards for a hundred, and breakfast for fifty, or in other words to feed only the very particular lions, and let the smaller animals take care of themselves.

“Where is Mr. Pott?” said Mrs. Leo Hunter, as she placed the aforesaid lions around her.

“Here I am,” said the editor, from the remotest end of the room; far beyond all hope of food, unless something was done for him by the hostess.

“Won’t you come up here?”

“Oh, pray don’t mind him,” said Mrs. Pott, in the most obliging voice⁠—“you give yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble, Mrs. Hunter. You’ll do very well there, won’t you⁠—dear?”