“Dear me! It is later than I had supposed. I am afraid we ought to be starting for Zoological House. Mrs. Bridgeman will be expecting us.”
“Certainly, sir, certainly!” said Mr. Sagittarius, with all the alacrity of supreme cowardice, and casting a terror-stricken glance towards Sir Tiglath, who was glowering at him with glassy eyes above a glass of port. “Mrs. Bridgeman will be expecting us!”
“I will assume my cloak,” said Madame, fiercely. “Jupiter!”
“My darling!”
“Kindly seek my furs.”
“Certainly, my love,” replied Mr. Sagittarius, darting eagerly from the apartment to fetch the rabbit-skins.
“Lady Julia, I hope you will forgive us,” said the Prophet, with passionate contrition. “If I had had the slightest idea that we should have the pleasure of seeing you to-night, of course I should have given up this engagement. But it is such an old one—settled months ago—and I have promised Mrs. Bridgeman so faithfully that—”
“The old astronomer will go with you,” cried Sir Tiglath at this moment, swallowing his glass of port at a gulp, and rolling out of his chair.
The Prophet turned cold, thinking of Miss Minerva, who would be present at Mrs. Bridgeman’s living her secret double life. It was imperative to prevent the astronomer from accompanying them.
“I did not think you knew Mrs. Bridgeman, Sir Tiglath,” the Prophet began, while Mrs. Merillia and Lady Julia stood blankly near the door, trying to look calm and dignified while everyone was ardently preparing to desert them.