"
"I hope not, grannie," said the Prophet. But he looked meditative.
Mr. Ferdinand brought the toast and water, the sandwich and the fan.
When he had trodden across the carpet out of the room Mrs. Merillia
continued,--
"Hennessey, you see where this prophetic business is leadin' you. It has
made you charmed at my accident. Yes, it has."
She spoke without any pathos, humorously indeed, in a bright tone full
of common sense. And she nodded at him over her toast and water with a
chaffing, demure smile. But the Prophet winced and put his hand to his
thick brown hair.
"No, no," he cried quickly. "That's impossible. It can't be." But the
statements sounded like perturbed questions.
"Think!" said his grandmother, looking down at her poor, helpless foot
as it lay on the velvet stool. "If I hadn't had an accident to-night,
you'd have been obliged to think ill of--of--which of them was it that
had the impertinence to talk my affairs over with you?"
"Mercury and Uranus, Jupiter, Saturn and Venus," said the Prophet with
almost terrible gravity.
"Exactly. I always have thought ill of the last, but that's nothin' to
do with it. Weigh me in the balance against five planets--are they all
planets?--and how do the scales go? You see, Hennessey!"
The Prophet looked much distressed.
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