“I am better now,” interposed Madame Sagittarius, brushing some crumbs of toast from her pelisse with the orange handkerchief. “Jupiter, if you are ready, we can explain the test to the gentleman.” So saying she drew a vinaigrette, set with fine imitation carbuncles, from the plush reticule, and applied it majestically to her nose. The Prophet grew really perturbed. He remembered his promise to his grandmother and Sir Tiglath, and felt that he must assert himself more strongly. “I assure you,” he began, with some show of firmness, “no tests will be necessary. My telescope has already been removed from its position, and--” “Then it must be reinstated, sir,” said Mr. Sagittarius, “and this very night. Madame has hit upon a plan, sir, of searching you to the quick. Trust a woman, sir, to do that.” “I should naturally trust Madame Sagittarius,” said the Prophet, very politely. “But I really cannot--” “So you say, sir. Our business is to find out whether, living in the Berkeley Square as you do, you can bring off a prophecy of any importance or not. The future of myself, Madame and family depends upon the results of the experiments which we shall make upon you during the next few days.” The Prophet began to feel as if he were shut up alone with a couple of determined practitioners of vivisection. “Let’s see, my dear,” continued Mr. Sagittarius, addressing his wife, “what was it to be?” “The honored grandmother one,” replied the lady, tersely. The Prophet started. “I cannot possibly consent--” he began. “Pray, Mr. Vivian, listen to me,” interposed Madame Sagittarius. “Pray, sir, attend to Madame!” said Mr. Sagittarius, sternly. “But I must really--” “January,” said Madame, “is a month of grave importance to grandmothers this year, is it not, Jupiter?” “Yes, my dear. In consequence of Scorpio being in the sign of Sagittarius. The crab will be very busy up till the third of February.” “Just so.” “At which date the little dog, my love, assumes the roll of maleficence towards the aged.” “I know. _Cane cavem_. When was the old lady born, Mr. Vivian, if you please?” “What old lady?” stammered the Prophet, beginning to perspire. “The old lady who’s got ankles, your honoured grandmother?” “On the twentieth of this month. But--” “At what time?” “Six in the morning. But--” “Under what star?” “Saturn. But--” “That’s lucky, isn’t it, Jupiter?” said Madame, in an increasingly business-like manner. “That brings her into touch with the Camelopard--doesn’t it?” “Into very close touch indeed, my dear, and also with the bull. He goes right to her, as you may say.” “I cannot conceivably permit--” began the Prophet in much agitation. But Madame, without taking the smallest notice of him, proceeded. “Will the scorpion be round her on her birthday?” “Close round her, my love--with the serpent. They work together.” “Together, do they? You know what effect they’ll have on her, don’t you, Jupiter?”