with some determination,--

"If that had been all, I daresay I should have thought very little of
the matter."

"No, you wouldn't sir. Who thinks their first baby a little one? Can you
tell me that?"

The Prophet considered the question for a moment. Then he answered,--

"Perhaps you're right."

"Perhaps so," rejoined Malkiel, indulgently. "Well, sir, what was your
next attempt--in the Berkeley Square?"

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."

"You've the better of me there, sir. My parents and Madame's are all in
Brompton Cemetery. Well, sir, you'd got an honoured grandmother in the
Berkeley Square. What of it?"

"She was naturally elderly."