“I have come to the conclusion that I overrated my powers, as amateurs will, you know, and that I have never really possessed any special talent in that direction.  I think I shall take up golf instead, or perhaps the motor car.”

He spoke deliberately in a light-minded, even frivolous, manner, toying airily with a sugar biscuit, as he leaned back in his chair, which stood opposite to Madame Sagittarius’s.  To his great surprise his well-meaning remarks were received with every symptom of grave dissatisfaction by his illustrious companions.  Madame Sagittarius threw herself suddenly forward with a most vivacious snort, and her husband’s face was immediately overcast by a threatening gloom that seemed to portend some very disagreeable expression of adverse humour.

“That won’t do, sir, at this time of day!” he exclaimed.  “You should have thought of that yesterday.  That won’t do at all, will it, Madame?”

“O miseris hominorum mentas!” exclaimed that lady, tragically. “O pectorae caecae!”

“You hear her, sir?” continued Mr. Sagittarius.  “You grasp her meaning?”

“I do hear certainly,” said the Prophet, beginning to feel that he really must rub up his classics.

“She helps Capricornus, sir, of an evening.  She assists him in his Latin.  Madame is a lady of deep education, sir.”

“Quite so.  But—­”

“There can be no going back, sir,” continued Mr. Sagittarius.  “Can there, Madame?”

“No human creature can go back,” said Madame Sagittarius.  “Such is the natural law as exemplified by the great Charles Darwin in his Vegetable Mould and Silkworms.  No human creature can go back.  Least of all this gentleman.  He must go forward and we with him.”

The Prophet began to feel uncomfortable.

“But—­” he said.

“There is no such word as ‘but’ in my dictionary,” retorted the lady.

“Ah, an abridged edition, no doubt,” said the Prophet.  “Still—­”

“I am better now,” interposed Madame Sagittarius, brushing some crumbs of toast from her pelisse with the orange handkerchief.  “Jupiter, if you are ready, we can explain the test to the gentleman.”

So saying she drew a vinaigrette, set with fine imitation carbuncles, from the plush reticule, and applied it majestically to her nose.  The Prophet grew really perturbed.  He remembered his promise to his grandmother and Sir Tiglath, and felt that he must assert himself more strongly.

“I assure you,” he began, with some show of firmness, “no tests will be necessary.  My telescope has already been removed from its position, and—­”

“Then it must be reinstated, sir,” said Mr. Sagittarius, “and this very night.  Madame has hit upon a plan, sir, of searching you to the quick.  Trust a woman, sir, to do that.”

“I should naturally trust Madame Sagittarius,” said the Prophet, very politely.  “But I really cannot—­”