"
"I am betrayed!" cried Mr. Sagittarius, dropping the knife and fork
which he had just picked up for the dissection of a lobster croquette.
"I said this was a trap. I said it was a rat-trap from the first."
"I knew he must be a ratcatcher," whispered Lady Julia to the Prophet,
who was about to rise from his seat and endeavour to calm his guest. "I
was certain no one but a ratcatcher could talk in such a manner."
"He is not indeed! Mr. Sagittarius, pray sit down! You are alarming my
grandmother."
"I can't help that, sir. I am not going to sit here, sir, and be slain."
"Tsh! Tsh! I merely informed Sir Tiglath the other evening that what
Miss Minerva had told him about you was true."
"Miss Minerva!" cried Madame, glancing at her husband in a most terrible
manner. "Miss Minerva!"
"Lady Enid Thistle, I mean," cried the Prophet, mentally cursing the day
when he was born.
"Who's that?" exclaimed Madame, beginning to look almost exactly like
Medusa.
"A young female who informed the old astronomer that your husband and an
elderly female named Mrs. Bridgeman had for a long while been carrying
on astronomical investigations together--"
"Carrying on together!" vociferated Madame.
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