“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 assure 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.