She glanced searchingly at the Prophet.

"Ah!" she murmured, "so you are taking a purple 'bus to your double life!"

He could not deny it. They were now all walking forward in the sun and as the little Corona and Capricornus became speedily intent upon the wonders of this central district, Lady Enid and the Prophet were able to have a quiet word or two together.

"I came to tell you," she said, "that Mrs. Vane Bridgeman will expect you to-night at--"

"I am engaged at eleven," cried the Prophet, in despair at the imposition of this fresh burden upon his weary shoulders.

"I know. To the Lord Chancellor, but--"

"No. I have an engagement which I dare not break, at home."

"Really!"

She gazed at him with her large, handsome grey eyes, and added,--

"I do believe you're silly enough to live your double life at home sometimes. How splendid!"

"No, no! I a.s.sure you--"

"Of course you do! You dear foolish thing! You're ever so much sillier than I am. You're my master."

"No, indeed, no, no!"

"But you can go to Mrs. Bridgeman's for an hour easily. She expects you and I've promised that you will go."

"It's very kind of you, but really--"

"So that's settled. You'll meet me there, but don't forget I'm Miss Minerva Partridge. The address is Zoological House, Regent's Park, that big house in a garden just outside the Zoo."

"The big house in the Zoological Gardens," said the Prophet, feebly.

"Thank you very much."

"No, no, outside the Zoo. And then we can arrange to-night about your introducing her to Mr. Sagittarius."

"Hush! Hush!" whispered the Prophet.

But he was too late. The long ears of the little pitchers had caught the well-known word.

"Why, that's pater familias," piped the little Capricornus.

"And mater familiaris," added the little Corona.

"You don't mean to say," cried Lady Enid to the Prophet, "that these are the children of Mr. Sagittarius?"

The Prophet bent his head.

"How very interesting!" said Lady Enid. "Everything is working out most beautifully. I must get them some chocolates."

And she immediately stepped into a confectioner's and came out with a beautiful box of bon-bons, tied with amethyst ribbon, which she gave to the delighted children.

"I know your dear father," she said. "At least I know who he is."

And she looked firmly at the Prophet, who dropped his eyes. They were now at the corner of Air Street, and the purple 'bus could be seen looming brilliantly in the distance.

"Good-bye, Lady Enid," said the Prophet.

"Oh, I'll see you off," she replied, evidently resolved to satisfy some further, unexpressed curiosity.

"There it is!" cried Capricornus. "It's coming! There it is!"

"Isn't it pretty?" shrieked the little Corona, who was evidently growing much excited by the chocolates and the centralness of the whole thing.

"Let's go on the top! Let's go on the top!"

She began to jump on the pavement, and her brother was just about to follow her example when some sudden idea struck him into gravity. He turned to the Prophet and exclaimed solemnly,--

"Oh, if you please, Mr. Vivian, have you got the crab with you?"

"The crab!" cried Lady Enid, with much vivacity.

"Yes, yes, my boy, it's all right!" said the Prophet, hastily.

"Not your boy, if you please, Mr. Vivian," returned the little inquisitor. "And have you got the fist tooth?"

"Yes, yes!"

"And the rashes, and the honoured grandmother, and--"

"I've got everything," cried the Prophet, "every single thing!"

"Because mater familias said I was to make you bring them if I stayed for them all day."

"Yes, yes, they're all here--every one."

Lady Enid was gazing at the Prophet's slim form with almost pa.s.sionate curiosity. It was evidently a problem to her how he had managed to conceal so many various commodities about his person without altering his shape. However, she had no time to study the matter, for at this moment the purple 'bus jerked along the kerb, and the voice of the conductor was heard crying,--

"Pork Butcher's Rest! All the way one penny! Pork--penny--all the way--Butcher's--Rest--one--Pork--all--Pork--penny--Pork--Butcher's-- Pork--Rest--Pork--penny!"

With a hasty farewell the Prophet, accompanied, and indeed closely clutched, by the little Corona and Capricornus, scrambled fanatically, and not without two or three heavy falls, to the summit of the 'bus, while Lady Enid read the legend printed on it with a smile, ere she turned to walk home, putting two and two together, and thinking, with keen feminine satisfaction, how useless in the long run are all the negatives of man.

In later years, though many memories intervene, the Prophet will never forget his journey to the banks of the Mouse. Always it seemed very strange to him and dream-like, that everlasting journey upon the purple 'bus, complicated by the chatter of the younger scions of the Malkiel dynasty, and by the shrill cries of the conductor summoning the pa.s.sers-by to hasten to that place of repose consecrated to the worthy and hard-working individuals who drew their modest incomes from the pig.

The character of the streets changed as the central districts were left behind, and a curious scent, the scent of Suburbia, seemed to float between the tall chimneys in the morose atmosphere. The purple chariot, which rolled on and on like the chariot of Fate, drew gradually away from the large thoroughfares into mean streets, whose air of dull gentility was for ever autumnal, and the Prophet, on pa.s.sing some gigantic gasworks, mechanically wondered whether it might not, perhaps, be that monument to whose shadow Malkiel the First had lived and died.

Once, looking up at the black sky, he remarked to the little Capricornus that it was evidently going to rain.

"No, Mr. Vivian," replied the boy. "It won't rain hard this week.

January's a fine month, but there'll be heavy floods in March, especially along the banks of the Thames."