nd she urged her
husband to cast the traditions that had hitherto guided him to the
winds and to declare forthwith his identity with Malkiel the Second, the
business-like and as it were official head of the whole prophetic tribe.

Mr. Sagittarius, for his part, was also fired with the longing for
instant glory, but he was by nature an extremely timid--or shall we
say rather, an extremely prudent--man. He remembered the repeated
injunctions of his great forebear who had lived and died in the Susan
Road beside the gasworks. More, he remembered Sir Tiglath Butt. He was
torn between ambition and terror.

"Declare yourself, Jupiter!" cried Madame. "Declare yourself this
moment!"

"My love!" replied Mr. Sagittarius. "My angel, we must reflect."

"I have reflected," retorted Madame.

"There are difficulties, my dear, many difficulties in the way."

"And what if there are? _Per augustum ad augustibus_. Every fool knows
that."

"My dear, you are a little hard upon me."

"And what have you been upon me, I should like to know? What about those
goings-on with the woman Bridgeman? What about your investigations with
that hussy Minerva? You've been her owl, that's what you've been!"

She began to show grave symptoms of hysteria. Mr. Sagittarius patted her
hands in great anxiety.

"My love, I have told you, I have sworn--"

"And what man doesn't swear whenever he gets the chance?" cried Madame.
"Why did I ever marry? _Heu miserum me_."

"My angel, be calm. I assure you--"

"Very well then, declare yourself, Jupiter, this minute, or I'll declare
yourself for you!"

"But, my love, think of Sir Tiglath! I dare not declare myself. He
will be here at any moment, and he has sworn to kill me, if I'm not an
American syndicate!"

"Rubbish!"

"But, my--"

"Rubbish! That's only what Mr. Vivian says."

"Well, but--"

"Besides, you can put on your _toga virilibus_ and knock him down. It's
no use talking to me, Jupiter."

"I know it isn't, my darling, I know. But--"

"If you don't declare yourself I shall declare yourself for you this
very moment. I will not endure to be left in the corner while all these
nobodies are being truckled to. Bernard Wilkins, indeed! A prophet
we wouldn't so much as recognise to be a prophet, and that there Mrs.
Eliza--people from the Wick going down to supper in front of us, and
a man from the Butts put before you! It's right down disgusting, and I
won't have it."

It was exactly at this p