"It's very nice of you not to ask any questions," observed Lady Enid,
presently.
The Prophet had been thinking it was, but he only said,--
"Oh, not at all."
"I'm a woman," promised Lady Enid, "and I don't know whether I can be so
nice."
The Prophet glanced at her and met her curious grey eyes.
"Try--please," he replied very gently, thinking of the oath which he had
just taken.
Lady Enid was silent for two minutes, then she remarked,--
"I have tried, but I can't succeed. Why on earth were you closeted in
the parlour--at my time, too--with Mr. Sagittarius this afternoon?"
"Then you really are Miss Minerva Partridge? And it was really you who
had--had--well, 'bespoke' the parlour at half-past three?"
"Certainly. Now we are neither of us nice, but we're both of us human."
"There were some letters for you," said the Prophet.
Lady Enid wrinkled her smooth, young, healthy-looking forehead.
"How stupid of me! I'll fetch them to-morrow. Well?"
She looked at the Prophet with obvious expectation.
"I'm so sorry I can't tell you," he replied with gentle firmness.
"Oh, all right," she rejoined. "But now I'm at a disadvantage.
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