"
This unanswerable logic naturally carried conviction to everyone
present, and the hysterical girl was warmly advised to make due
acknowledgement of the benefits received by her at the healing hands
of Mrs. Harriet, while the latter was covered with compliments and
assiduously conducted towards the buffet, escorted by the great Towle.
"Isn't she wonderful?" said Mrs. Bridgeman, turning ecstatically to
the person nearest to her, who happened to be the saturnine little
clergyman. "Isn't she marvellous, Mr.--er--Mr. Segerteribus?"
"Biggle!" cried the little clergyman.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Biggle!" vociferated the little clergyman. "Biggle!"
"Certainly. Did you ever see anything like that cure? Ah! you ought to
preach about dear Harriet, Mr. Segerteribus, you really--"
"Biggle!" reiterated the little clergyman, excitedly. "Biggle! Biggle!"
"What does he--" began Mrs. Bridgeman, turning helplessly towards the
Prophet.
"It's his name, I fancy," whispered the Prophet.
Mrs. Bridgeman started and smiled.
"Mr. Biggle," she said.
The little clergyman moved on towards the guitars with all the air of
a future colonial bishop. Mrs.
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