"A person who tells your fortune by the shape of your nose."
"Well, you understand now that there's no sillier person in London than dear Mrs. Bridgeman?"
"She's done a great deal for me, more than I can ever repay."
"Yes, in introducing me to the real inner circles of idiotcy. Well, in return, I've sworn--"
"Oh, nothing. I beg your pardon. Please go on."
She looked at him curiously, and continued.
"I've sworn--that is, pledged my honour, you know--"
"To introduce her to at least one thoroughly sensible person--a man, she prefers."
"Sir Tiglath, because he's the only one I know. Once, I confess, I thought of you."
"Yes, but of course I didn't really know you then."
She looked at him with genuine regard. The Prophet scarcely knew whether to feel delighted or distressed.
"Now, you see, Mr. Vivian, if Sir Tiglath found out for certain that I was Miss Minerva, he might discover my double life, and if he did that, he is so sensible that I am sure he would never speak to me again, and I could not fulfil my vow to dear Mrs. Bridgeman."
"He only said that about partridges in January, I find, because he happened to see one of my letters in Jellybrand's window. He doesn't associate that letter with me. So it ought to be all right, and I've arranged my campaign."
She smiled at him with some Scottish craft.
"Don't bother. You've got to be my aide-de-camp, that's all. Ah, here we are!"
For at this moment the horse, with a great effort succeeded in falling down, for the last time, before the astronomer's door.
On being shown, by an elderly housekeeper with a Berlin wool fringe, into an old-fashioned oval book-room, Lady Enid and the Prophet discovered the astronomer sitting there _tete-a-tete_ with a muffin, which lay on a china plate surrounded by manuscripts, letters, pamphlets, books and blotting-paper. He was engaged in tracing lines upon an immense sheet of foolscap with the aid of a ruler and a pair of compasses, and when he perceived his visitors, he merely rolled his glassy eyes at them, shook his large head as if in rebuke, and then returned to his occupation without uttering a word.
Lady Enid was in nowise abashed. She looked more sensible even than usual, and at once commenced her campaign by the remark,--