"Not John," I said gently. John is---- John overdoes it a trifle. There
is too much of John; and he exposes his inside--which is not quite nice.

"Well, whichever you like. Come on, let's begin. William."

As it happened, I particularly wanted William. He has an absolutely
noiseless tick, such as is suitable to a room in which work is to be
done. I explained this to Celia.

"What you want for the drawing-room," I went on, "is a clock which ticks
ostentatiously, so that your visitors may be reminded of the flight of
time. Edward is a very loud breather. No guest could fail to notice
Edward."

"William," said Celia firmly.

"William has a very delicate interior," I pleaded. "You could never
attend to him properly. I have been thinking of William ever since we
had him, and I feel that I understand his case."

"Very well," said Celia, with sudden generosity; "Edward. You have
William; I have Alphonse for the dining-room; you have John for your
bedroom; I have Enid for mine; you----"

"Not John," I said gently. To be frank, John is improper.

"Well, Percy, then."

"Yes, Percy. He is young and fair. He shall sit on the chest of drawers
and sing to my sock-suspenders."

"Then Henrietta had better go in the spare room, and Muriel in Jane's."

"Muriel is much too good for Jane," I protested. "Besides, a servant
wants an alarm clock to get her up in the morning."

"You forget that Muriel cuckoos. At six o'clock she will cuckoo exactly
six times, and at the sixth 'oo' Jane brisks out of bed."

I still felt a little doubtful, because the early morning is a bad time
for counting cuckoos, and I didn't see why Jane shouldn't brisk out at
the seventh "oo" by mistake one day. However, Jane is in Celia's
department, and if Celia was satisfied I was. Besides, the only other
place for Muriel was the bathroom; and there is something about a
cuckoo-clock in a bathroom which--well, one wants to be educated up to
it.

"And that," said Celia gladly, "leaves the kitchen for John." John, as I
think I have said, displays his inside in a lamentable way. There is too
much of John.

"If Jane doesn't mind," I added. "She may have been strictly brought
up."

"She'll love him. John lacks reserve, but he is a good time-keeper."

And so our eight friends were settled. But, alas, not for long. Our
discussion had taken place on the eve of Jane's arrival; and when she
turned up next day she brought with her, to our horror, a clock of