himself with gestures almost Sinaic.

She was dressed in mouse-coloured grenadine, and was seated in a small
chamber opening out of Mrs. Merillia's bedroom, engaged in what she
called "plain tatting."

"Fancy," said the Prophet, entering and closing the door carefully, "you
know me well."

"From the bottle, sir," she answered, darting the bone implements in and
out.

"Have you ever thought--has it ever occurred to you--"

"I can't say it has, sir," Fancy replied, with the weak decision
peculiar to her.

She was ever prone thus to answer questions before they were fully
asked, or could be properly understood by her, and from such premature
decisions as she hastened to give she could never afterwards be
persuaded to retreat. Knowing this the Prophet said rapidly,--

"Fancy, if a man finds out that he is a prophet what ought he to do?"

The lady's-maid rattled her bones.

"Let it alone, sir," she answered. "Let it alone, Master Hennessey."

"Well, but what d'you mean by that?"