ould the lynx be near
her--"

"No, no!" cried the Prophet. "It shall not be!"

"Well, you'll have to find that out and keep an eye to it. But should
it be, you will commit to paper what result its presence is likely to
produce to her, and work the whole thing out clearly for myself and
Madame on paper--in prophetic form, of course--so that we receive it
by--what post shall I say, my dear?"

"First post, Jupiter."

"First post on--what day is the twentieth?"

"I don't know," replied the Prophet, helplessly.

"A Thursday," said Madame. "Capricornus's day for chronic sections."

"She always knows," said Mr. Sagittarius to the Prophet.

"Always."

"Very well then, first post Thursday morning. Now is that quite clear?"

"Oh, quite, quite."

"You will of course send the old lady's horoscope to us at the same time
with full particulars."

"Full particulars?" said the Prophet. "What of?"

"Of her removal from the bottle, cutting of her first tooth, short
coating, going into skirts, putting of the hair up, day of marriage and
widowhood, illnesses--"

"Especially the rashes, Jupiter," struck in Madame.

"What a mind!" said Mr. Sagittarius aside to the Prophet.

"What!"

"Especially as Madame says, any illnesses taking the form of a rash--the
epidemic form, as I may say--and so forth. We are to receive this
document by the first post Thursday morning."

"Have you dotted all that down, Mr. Vivian?" inquired Madame.

The Prophet hastily made a large variety of scratches with the lead
pencil.

"And now," continued Mr. Sagittarius.

There was a third tap at the door.

"Come in," cried the Prophet, distractedly, and feeling as if homicidal
mania were rapidly creeping upon him.

Mr. Ferdinand appeared once more, with a mouth like a purse.

"Her ladyship says she really must go in a moment, sir, and--and Mrs.
Merillia begs that--"

"I am coming at once, Mr. Ferdinand. I swear it. Go upstairs and swear I
swear it."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Ferdinand departed, rather with the demeanour of an archbishop who
has been inveigled into pledging himself, on his archiepiscopal oath, to
commit some horrid crime. The Prophet turned, almost violently, towards
his guests.

"I must go," he cried. "I must indeed. Pray forgive me. You see how I am
circumstanced. Permit me to show you to the door."

"You swear, sir, to carry out all our directions and to dot down--"

"I do. I swear solemnly to dot down--if you will only--