gown, in
a manner that suggested amazement tempered with indignation, her instant
expression of these two sentiments being only held in check by a certain
reverence which was doubtless inspired by the pretty room, the thick
carpet, the ancestral pictures upon the walls, and the lofty bearing of
Lady Julia Postlethwaite, who could scarcely conceal her very natural
surprise at the extraordinary appearance of Mr. Sagittarius. As to Mrs.
Merillia, although she was, in reality, near fainting with wonder at her
grandson's escapade, she preserved an expression of gracious benignity,
and did not allow a motion of her eyelids or a flutter of her fan to
betray her emotion at finding herself the unprepared hostess of such
unusual guests. The Prophet broke the silence by saying, in a voice that
cracked with agitation,--

"I trust--I sincerely trust that we shall have a clement spring this
year."

Lady Julia, at whom he had looked while uttering this original
desire, was about to reply when Madame uttered a stentorian click and
interposed.

"In the spring the young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,"
she remarked, with the fictitious ease of profound ill-breeding.

No one dared to dispute the portentous statement, and she resumed
majestically,--

"The Mouse is delicious in spring."

There was another dead silence, and Madame, turning with patronising and
heavy affability towards Lady Julia, added,--

"Your ladyship doubtless loves the Mouse--_Mus Pulcherrimo_--in spring
as I do?"

The Prophet felt as if he were being pricked by thousands of red-hot
needles, and the perspiration burst out in beads upon his forehead.

"I am not specially fond of mice in spring, or indeed at any season,"
replied Lady Julia, with her slight, but very distinct and bell-like,
cough.

"I said the Mouse, your ladyship," returned Madame, feeding upon this
titled acquaintance with her bulging black eyes, and pushing the kid
boots well out from under her brown skirt. "I observed that the Mouse
was peculiarly delicious in the season of love."

"No mouse attracts me," said Lady Julia, coughing again and raising her
fine eyebrows slightly. "I should much prefer to pass the spring without
the companionship of any mouse whatever."

Both Madame and Mr. Sagittarius opened their lips to reply, but before
they could eject a single word the door was opened by Mr. Ferdinand, who
announced,--

"Sir Tiglath Butt."

Mr. Sagittarius started vi