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. If they should"--his ordinary
gentle eyes flamed almost furiously--"Mr. Ferdinand is to burn them
unread--yes, to ashes. I will tell him." And he escorted Lady Enid
tumultuously downstairs, missing his footing at every second step.

In the square they parted from Mr. Green, who said,--

"Good-bye, Niddy, old girl. What do I want to pick up at Tattersall's?"

"A polo pony, Bob," she answered firmly.

"Oh, a polo pony. Thanks, Chin, chin, Hen. Polo pony is it?"

He strode off, whistling "She wore a wreath of roses" in a puzzled
manner, but still preserving the accepted demeanour of a bulwark.

As soon as Mr. Green was out of sight Lady Enid said,--

"We aren't going to Hill Street."

"Aren't we?" replied the Prophet, feebly.

"No. I must see Sir Tiglath Butt to-day. I want you to take me to his
door."

"Where is his door?"

"In Kensington Square. Do you mind hailing a four-wheeler. We can talk
privately there. No one will hear us."

The Prophet hailed a growler, wondering whether they would be able to
hear each other. As they got in Lady Enid, after giving the direction,
said to the cabman, who was a short person, with curling ebon whiskers,
a broken-up expression and a broken-down manner:

"Drive slowly, please and I'll give you an extra six-pence."

"Lydy?"

"Drive slowly, and I'll give you anothe