gician!"

"Towle the hypnotist!"

"Towle the soothsayer!"

"The magnetic Towle!"

"The electric Towle!"

"We must--we must see Towle!"

Such were a very few of the exclamations that instantly burst forth upon
the conclusion of the footman's announcement. The elbowing and trampling
became more violent than ever, and Mrs. Bridgeman was forced--from
lack of room--to forego her society start, though she was still able
to indulge in her society smile, as she bowed, with almost swooning
graciousness, to a short, perspiring, bald and side-whiskered man in
greasy broadcloth, who looked as if he would have been quite at home
upon the box of a four-wheeled cab, as indeed he would, seeing that he
had driven a growler for five-and-twenty years before discovering
that he was the great and only Towle, medium, seer, and
worker-of-miracles-in-chief to the large and increasing crowd that lives
the silly life.

"Oh, Mr. Towle--charmed, delighted!" cried Mrs. Bridgeman. "I was so
afraid--How sweet of you to come out all this way from your eyrie at
the Wick! You'll find many friends--dear Madame Charlotte--the
Professor--Mrs. Eliza--they're all here. And Miss Minerva, too! Your
greatest admirer and disciple!"

At this moment the crowd, wild in its endeavour to touch the inspired
broadcloth of the great Towle, surged forward, and the Prophet was
driven like a ram against the left side of his hostess.

"I beg--your--pard--" he gasped; "but could you tell--me--where Miss
Minerv--erva--is? I special--ly want to--to--"

"I think she's with Eureka in tea-room number 1," replied Mrs.
Bridgeman. "Oh, dear! Near the band. Oh, dear! Oh, my gown! Oh! So
sweet of you to come, Mrs. Lorrimer! Just a few interesting people! Oh,
gracious mercy! Oh, for goodness' sake!"

She was thrust against a new arrival, and the Prophet, bringing
his shoulders vigorously into play, according to the rules of Rugby
football, presently found himself out in the open and free to wander in
search of Miss Minerva, whom he was most anxious to encounter before
the arrival of Sir Tiglath Butt, which must now be imminent, despite the
marked disinclination of his horse to proceed at the rate of more than
half a mile an hour.

The Prophet abandoned Mr. and Madame Sagittarius to their fate,
thankful, indeed, to be rid for a moment of their prophetic importunity.

Following the gasped directions of Mrs. Bridgeman, he made towards the
guitars, threading a number of d