And the Prophet rushed from the room, leaving Mrs. Merillia in a condition that cannot be described and that not all the subsequent ministrations of Mrs. Fancy Quinglet were able to alleviate.
Having reached the hall, the Prophet hastily put on his coat and hat and called Mr. Ferdinand to him.
“Mr. Ferdinand,” he said, assuming a fixed and stony dignity to conceal his agitation and dismay, “I am leaving the house at once with the—the lady and gentleman who are in the library.”
At this description of the kids Mr. Ferdinand was very nearly seized with convulsions. However, as he said nothing and merely wrung his large hands, the Prophet, after a slight pause, continued,—
“I may be away some time, so if Mrs. Merillia should make any inquiry, you will say that I have left to pay a visit to some friends.”
“Yes, sir. Shall I tell Gustavus to pack your things?”
“Certainly not.”
The Prophet was turning towards the library when Mr. Ferdinand added,—
“When shall we expect you back, sir? Am I to forward your letters?”
“No, no. I shall return in a few hours.”