The Prophet of Berkeley Square Part 23

"I--I thought I said sharp, sir," remarked Malkiel, at length, with a great effort recovering himself.

"Wasn't I sharp?" returned the Prophet. "Will you present me?"

"Are you equal to it, my love?" inquired Malkiel, tenderly, to the contralto voice.

The contralto voice nodded hysterically.

"Madame Sagittarius, sir," said Malkiel, turning proudly to the Prophet, "my wife, the mother of Corona and Capricornus."

The Prophet bowed and the lady inclined herself, slightly protruding her elbows as she did so, as if just to draw attention to the fact that she was possessed of those appendages and could use them if necessary.

Madame Malkiel, or rather Madame Sagittarius, as she must for the present be called, was a smallish woman of some forty winters. Her hair, which was drawn away intellectually from an ample and decidedly convex brow, was as black as a patent leather boot, and had a gloss upon it as of carefully-adjusted varnish. Her eyes were very large, very dark and very prominent. Her features were obstreperous and rippling, running from right to left, and her teeth, which were shaded by a tiny black moustache, gleamed in a manner that could scarcely be called natural.

She was attired in a black velvet gown trimmed with a very large quant.i.ty of beadwork, a bonnet adorned with purple cherries, green tulips and orange-coloured ostrich tips, a pelisse, to which bugles had been applied with no uncertain hand, and an opal necklace. Her gloves were of white, her boots of black kid, the latter being furnished with elastic sides, and over her left wrist she carried a plush reticule, whose mouth was kept shut by a tightly-drawn scarlet riband. On the left side of her pelisse reposed a round bouquet of violets about the size of a Rugby football.

"I thought you might like to have some tea," began the Prophet, in his most soothing manner, while Mr. Ferdinand, with pursed lips, softly arranged that beverage upon the seat which Mr. Sagittarius--so we must call him--had just vacated.

"Thank you," said Madame Sagittarius, with dignity. "It would be acceptable. The long journey from the banks of the Mouse to these central districts is not without its fatigue. A beautiful equipage!"

"You said--"

"You have a very fine equipage."

"You have seen the brougham?" said the Prophet, in some surprise.

"What broom?" buzzed Madame Sagittarius.

"I thought you were admiring--"

"The tea equipage."

"Oh, yes, to be sure. Queen Anne silver, yes."

"A great woman!" said Madame Sagittarius, spreading a silk handkerchief that exactly matched the ostrich tips in her bonnet carefully over her velvet lap. "All who have read Mrs. Markham's work of genius with understanding must hold her name in reverence. A n.o.ble creature! A pity she died!"

"A great pity indeed!"

"Still we must remember that _Mors omnis communibus_. We must not forget that."

"No, no."

"And after all it is the will of Providence. _Mors Deo_."

"Quite so."

During this cla.s.sical and historical retrospect Mr. Ferdinand had finished his task and quitted the apartment. As soon as he had gone Madame Sagittarius continued,--

"As the mother of Corona and Capricornus I feel it my duty to ask you, sir--that is, Mr.--"

"Vivian."

"Mr. Vivian, whether the illness in your house is really only ankles as the gentleman who opened the door a.s.sured me?"

"It is only that."

"Not catching?"

"Oh, dear, no."

"There, Sophronia!" said Mr. Sagittarius. "I told you it was merely the prophecy."

He suddenly a.s.sumed a formidable manner, and continued,--

"And now, sir, that we are alone--"

But Madame interrupted him.

"Kindly permit our host to succour my fatigue, Jupiter," she said severely. "I am greatly upset by the journey. When I am restored we can proceed to business. At present I am fit only for consolation."

Mr. Sagittarius subsided, and the Prophet hastily a.s.sisted the victim of prolonged travel to some b.u.t.tered toast. Having also attended to the wants of her precipitate underling, he thought it a good opportunity to proceed to a full explanation with the august couple, and he therefore remarked, with an ingratiating and almost tender smile,--

"I think I ought to tell you at once that there will be no need for any further anxiety on your part. I have put down my telescope and have--well, in fact, I have decided once and for all to give up prophecy for the future."

The Prophet, in his innocence, had expected that this declaration of policy would exercise a soothing influence upon his guests, more especially when he added--it is to be feared with some insincerity,--

"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 ill.u.s.trious 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 cla.s.sics.

"She helps Capricornus, sir, of an evening. She a.s.sists 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.