The Prophet stopped short.
“Engaged!” he said. “To whom?”
“Sir Tiglath.”
“Engaged to Sir Tiglath!”
“Yes. He proposed to me to-night at Zoological House.”
“Why?”
She might well have resented the question, but perhaps she divined the distraught and almost maniacal condition of mind that the Prophet masked beneath his impassive demeanour. At any rate she answered frankly,—
“Because he didn’t find out I’m Miss Minerva, and in the midst of Mrs. Bridgeman’s silly world I stood right out as the only sensible creature living. Isn’t it fun?”
“Fun!”
“Yes. I always meant him to propose to me.”