"I wrote that if
another boy knocked, death would certainly ensue."
"Ensue. That's it. I knew it was one of those modern words," said Mr.
Green.
"Another boy?" said Lady Enid. "Why should another boy knock?"
"Hennessey receives about nine telegrams an hour," answered Mrs.
Merillia.
"Really!"
Lady Enid looked at him with keen interest, while Mrs. Merillia
continued,--
"You had better take death off the door now, Mr. Ferdinand. I feel more
myself. Please thank her ladyship and tell her so."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Nine telegrams an hour!" repeated Lady Enid. "Mr. Vivian, would
you mind just seeing me as far as Hill Street? Bob has to go to
Tattersall's."
"Have I, Niddy?" asked Mr. Green, with evident surprise.
"Yes, to pick up a polo pony. Don't you recollect?"
"A polo pony, was it? By Jove!"
"I will come with pleasure," said the poor Prophet, who felt fit only to
lie down quietly in his grave. "If you don't mind being left, grannie?"
Mrs. Merillia was looking pleased.
"No, no. Go with Lady Enid, my dear boy. If any telegrams come shall I
open--"
"No," cried the Prophet, with sudden fierce energy. "For mercy's sake--I
mean, grannie, dear; that none will come.
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