And she hastened on with the Prophet in search of the great Towle.
“I’ll get him to back Eureka up, and then it will be quite safe,” she said. “Ah! there he is with Harriet Browne, the demonstrator from the Rye.”
Indeed, at this moment a small crowd was visible in one of the further drawing-rooms, moving obsequiously along in reverent attendance upon the great Towle, Mrs. Bridgeman and a thickset, red-faced lady, without a waist and plainly clad in untrimmed linsey-wolsey, who was speaking authoritatively to a hysterical-looking young girl, upon whose narrow shoulder she rested a heavy, fat-fingered hand as she walked.
“Harriet’s evidently going to demonstrate,” added Lady Enid. “That’s lucky, because then I can get a quiet word with Towle.”
“Demonstrate?” said the Prophet.
“Yes. She’s the great Christian Scientist and has the healing power. She demonstrated over Agatha Marshall’s left ear. You know. The case got into the papers. Ah, Harriet, darling!”
“My blessing! My Minerva!” said Harriet in a thick and guttural voice.
“Lady Enid, Harriet love, to-night. Eureka says I’m astral. Oh, Mr. Towle, what an honour to meet you—what an honour for us all!”
The great Towle ducked and scraped in cabman fashion.
“Oh, will you materialise for us to-night?”