Eureka acquiesced with a heavy sigh, Mr. Moses cried, “Aunt Eureka’s so hungry that one would declare she could even eat oats if she found they were there!” and Miss Minerva and the Prophet moved languidly towards the buffet, endeavouring, by the indifference of their movements, to cover the agitation in their hearts.
“Sir Tiglath coming here!” cried Miss Minerva under her breath, as soon as they were out of earshot. “But he doesn’t know Mrs. Bridgeman!”
“I know—but he’s coming. And not only that, Mr. and Madame Sagittarius are here already!”
Miss Minerva looked closely at the Prophet in silence for a moment. Then she said,—
“I see—I see!”
“What?” cried the Prophet, in great anxiety, “not the sparrow on my head?”
“No. But I see that you’re taking to your double life in real earnest.”
“I?”
“Yes. Now, Mr. Vivian, that’s all very well, and you know I’m the last person to complain of anything of that sort, so long as it doesn’t get me into difficulties.”
“Think of the difficulties you and everyone else have got me into,” ejaculated the poor Prophet, for once in his life stepping, perhaps, a hair’s-breadth from the paths of good breeding.