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Merillia's presence, for he knew that he was about to see the venerable victim of the young librarian's indignant chivalry, the "old gent" who had come to intimate terms with Jellybrand's bookcase, and who had kicked and knocked at least a pint of paint off Jellybrand's door.
Staggering to the what-not of Gustavus, he sank down upon it and fell into a melancholy reverie, from which he was roused by the constant tingling cry of Mrs. Merillia's second bell, which rang close to where he was reposing.
Hearing the intruder depart, Mrs. Merillia's curious courage deserted her, she dropped the poker into the grate, and once more set both bells going with all her might and main. The Prophet let her ring for nearly five minutes, then he bounded once more upstairs and tapped very gently on the door. "Grannie," he cried, "are you ringing? What is it?" This time Mrs.
Merillia's as a matter of course, and they settled down together with the greatest alacrity and hopefulness. Nor were their pleasant relations once disturbed during the fifteen years that elapsed before the Prophet applied his eye to the telescope in the bow window and gave Mr. Ferdinand the instructions which have just been recorded.
The Prophet's sensitive nature winced under the obvious irony of the interrogation, but either the "creaming foam" had rendered him desperate, or he was to some extent steeled against the satire by the awful self-respect which had invaded him since Mrs. Merillia's accident. In any case he answered firmly, "Malkiel the Second, in Berkeley Square I had a relation an honoured grandmother."
"Take my coat, please. What's that?" For Mrs. Merillia's bells struck shrilly upon his astonished ears. "I think it's Mrs. Merillia, sir. She keeps on ringing." "Mrs. Merillia. At this hour! Heavens! Is she ill?" "I don't know, sir. She keeps ringing; but when I answer it she says, 'Go away! she says. 'Go she says, sir." "How very strange!"
Merillia's very unfamiliar guests, whose outlying demeanour and architectural manners evidently filled him with the most poignant dismay. As to Mrs. Merillia and Lady Julia, the foregoing scene had so reduced them that they were almost betrayed into some hysterical departure from the rules of exquisite good breeding which they had unconsciously observed from the cradle.
"I'm so sorry I can't tell you," he replied with gentle firmness. "Oh, all right," she rejoined. "But now I'm at a disadvantage. You know I'm Miss Minerva." "Yes. But I don't know why you are, or why you go to Jellybrand's, or why you rushed into the parlour, or who the old gentleman was that " The cab stopped before Mrs. Merillia's house.
Unluckily he tripped in the raised pattern of the carpet, the candlestick uttered a silver note, his pent-in breath escaped with a loud gulp, and Mrs. Merillia's delicate voice cried out from behind her shut door, "Hennessey! Hennessey!" The Prophet bit his lip and went at once into her room. Mrs.
Oh-h-h-h!" Now the Prophet, as has been before observed, possessed a very sensitive nature. He was also very devoted to his grandmother, and had an extraordinary reverence for the world-famed attainments of Sir Tiglath Butt. Therefore, when he heard Mrs. Merillia's pleading, and the astronomer's weighty denunciation, he was deeply moved.
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