Merillia should make any inquiry,
you will say that I have left to pay a visit to some friends."
"Yes, sir. Shall I tell Gustavus to pack your things?"
"Certainly not."
The Prophet was turning towards the library when Mr. Ferdinand added,--
"When shall we expect you back, sir? Am I to forward your letters?"
"No, no. I shall return in a few hours."
"Oh, I beg pardon, sir. And if any telegrams--"
"There will not be any. I am now going to answer the telegrams in
person."
"Yes, sir."
"Come along, my children," cried the Prophet, putting his head into the
library.
"Not your children, if you please, Mr. Vivian," replied the little boy.
"Corona, come on."
"How do we go, my dears?" asked the Prophet, with an attempt at gaiety,
and endeavouring to ignore the prostrated demeanour of Mr. Ferdinand,
who was in waiting to open the hall door.
"By the purple 'bus as far as the Pork Butcher's Rest," piped the
little boy--(at this point Mr. Ferdinand could not refrain from a slight
exclamation)--"then we take the train to the Mouse, Mouse, Mouse."
"Mus, Mus, Mus," chanted the little girl.
As Mr. Ferdinand was unable to open the door, paralysis having
apparently supervened, the Prophet did so, and the cheerful little
party emerged upon the step to find Lady Enid Thistle in the very act of
pressing the electric bell.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232