“The old astronomer must know her before the evening is one hour more advanced. He must question her regarding the holy stars. He must examine her and this Sagittarius, who claims to be an outside broker and yet to have discovered oxygen in the fixed inhabitants of the sacred heavens. My cloak!”
The last words were bellowed at Gustavus, who rushed forward with Sir Tiglath’s Inverness.
The Prophet lowed his head, and metaphorically, threw up the sponge.
“Lady Julia,” said Mrs. Merillia, in a soft voice that slightly trembled, “let us go upstairs.”
The two old ladies bowed with tearful dignity, and retired with a sort of gentle majesty that cut the Prophet to the heart.
“One moment, if you please!” he said to his guests.
And he darted out of the room and leaped up the stairs. He found Mrs. Merillia and Lady Julia just about to dispose themselves side by side upon a sofa near the fire. They turned and looked at him with reproachful doves’ eyes.
“Grannie—Lady Julia!” he exclaimed, “I implore your forgiveness. Pardon me! Appearances are against me, I know. But some day you may understand how I am placed. My position is—my—my situation—I—you—do not wholly condemn me! Wait—wait a few days, I implore you!”
He rushed out of the room.
The two old ladies seated themselves upon the sofa, and tremblingly spread abroad their damask skirts. They looked at each other in silence, shaking their elegant heads. Then Mrs. Merillia said, in a fluttering voice,—