The Prophet of Berkeley Square Part 35

"They get red noses, poor things, and disappear. They're not permanent enough to count as the very silliest."

"I give it up."

"The Spiritualists and the Christian Scientists. That's why I love them best, and spend most of my double life with them. How you would get on with them! How much at ease you would be in their midst!"

"Really! But aren't they in opposite camps?"

"Dear things! They often think so, I believe. But really they aren't.

Half the Christian Scientists begin as Spiritualists. And a great many Spiritualists were once Christian Scientists."

"Which are you?"

"Both, of course."

"Dear me!"

"As you will be when you've got thoroughly into your double life. Well, my greatest friend--in my double life, you understand--is a Mrs. Vane Bridgeman, a Christian Scientist and Spiritualist. She is very rich, and magnificently idiotic. She supports all foolish charities. She has almshouses for broken-down mediums on Sunnington Common in Kent. She has endowed a hospital for sick fortune-tellers. She gave five hundred pounds to the home for indigent thought-readers, and nearly as much to the 'Palmists' Seaside Retreat' at Millaby Bay near Dover. I don't know how many Christian Science Temples she hasn't erected, or subscribed liberally to. She turns every table in her house. She won't leave even one alone. Her early breakfasts for star-gazers are famous, and it's impossible to dine with her without sitting next to a horoscope-caster, or being taken in--to dinner, of course--by a crystal diviner or a nose-prophet."

"A nose-prophet! What's that?"

"A person who tells your fortune by the shape of your nose."

"Oh, I see."

"Well, you understand now that there's no sillier person in London than dear Mrs. Bridgeman?"

"Oh, quite."

"She's done a great deal for me, more than I can ever repay."

"Indeed."

"Yes, in introducing me to the real inner circles of idiotcy. Well, in return, I've sworn--"

"You too!"

"What do you mean?"

"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--"

"I know! I know!"

"To introduce her to at least one thoroughly sensible person--a man, she prefers."

"And you've chosen--?"

"Sir Tiglath, because he's the only one I know. Once, I confess, I thought of you."

"Of me!"

"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."

"I quite see."

"Nor my other vow to myself."

"Which one?"

"Oh, never mind."

"I won't."

"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 a.s.sociate that letter with me. So it ought to be all right, and I've arranged my campaign."

"But what can I--?"

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.

CHAPTER XII

THE ELABORATE MIND OF MISS MINERVA

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 m.u.f.fin, which lay on a china plate surrounded by ma.n.u.scripts, 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 compa.s.ses, and when he perceived his visitors, he merely rolled his gla.s.sy 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,--

"I know you wonder why I wanted to see you this afternoon, Sir Tiglath.

Well, I'll tell you at once. Mr. Vivian has persuaded me to act as his amba.s.sador."

At this very unexpected statement the Prophet started, and was about to utter what might, perhaps, have taken the form of a carefully-worded denial, when Lady Enid made a violent face at him, and proceeded, in a calm manner.

"He wishes you to do something for him, and he has confessed to me that he does not quite like to ask you himself."

On hearing these words the Prophet's brain, already sorely tried by the tragic duel which had taken place between himself and the couple who lived beside the Mouse, temporarily collapsed. He attempted no protest.

His mind indeed was not in a condition to invent one. He simply sat down on a small pile of astronomical instruments which, with some scientific works, an encyclopaedia and a pair of carpet slippers, occupied the nearest chair, and waited in a dazed manner for what would happen next.