by W. W. Jacobs
carefully from itsplace in the album, and putting on her hat and jacket went round to makea call in Peter Street.
By the time Flora returned home Mrs. Dowson appeared to have forgottenthe arrangement made the night before, and, being reminded by herdaughter, questioned whether any good could come of attempts to peer intothe future. Mr. Dowson was still more emphatic, but his objections,being recognized by both ladies as trouser-pocket ones, carried noweight. It ended in Flora going off with half a crown in her glove andan urgent request from her father to make it as difficult as possible forthe sibyl by giving a false name and address.
No name was asked for, however, as Miss Dowson was shown into the untidylittle back room on the first floor, in which the sorceress ate, slept,and received visitors. She rose from an old rocking-chair as the visitorentered, and, regarding her with a pair of beady black eyes, bade her sitdown.
"Are you the fortune-teller?" inquired the girl.
"Men call me so," was the reply.
"Yes, but are you?" persisted Miss Dowson, who inherited her father'sfondness for half crowns.
"Yes," said the other, in a more natural voice.
She took the girl's left hand, and pouring a little dark liquid into thepalm gazed at it intently. "Left for the past; right for the future,"she said, in a deep voice.
She muttered some strange words and bent her head lower over the girl'shand.
"She muttered some strange words and bent her head lowerover the girl's hand."]
"I see a fair-haired infant," she said, slowly; "I see a little girl offour racked with the whooping-cough; I see her later, eight she appearsto be. She is in bed with measles."
Miss Dowson stared at her open-mouthed.
"She goes away to the seaside to get strong," continued the sorceress;"she is paddling; she falls into the water and spoils her frock; hermother----"
"Never mind about that," interrupted the staring Miss Dowson, hastily."I was only eight at the time and mother always was ready with herhands."
"People on the beach smile," resumed the other. "They
"It don't take much to make some people laugh," said Miss Dowson, withbitterness.
"At fourteen she and a boy next door but seven both have the mumps."
"And why not?" demanded Miss Dowson with great warmth. "Why not?"
"I'm only reading what I see in your hand," said the other. "At fifteenI see her knocked down by a boat-swing; a boy from opposite brings herhome."
"Passing at the time," murmured Miss Dowson.
"His head is done up with sticking-plaster. I see her apprenticed to adressmaker. I see her----"
The voice went on monotonously, and Flora, gasping with astonishment,listened to a long recital of the remaining interesting points in hercareer.
"That brings us to the present," said the soothsayer, dropping her hand."Now for the future."
She took the girl's other hand and poured some of the liquid into it.Miss Dowson shrank back.
"If it's anything dreadful," she said, quickly, "I don't want to hear it.It--it ain't natural."
"I can warn you of dangers to keep clear of," said the other, detainingher hand. "I can let you peep into the future and see what to do andwhat to avoid. Ah!"
She bent over the girl's hand again and uttered little ejaculations ofsurprise and perplexity.
"I see you moving in gay scenes surrounded by happy faces," she said,slowly. "You are much sought after. Handsome presents and fine clothesare showered upon you. You will cross the sea. I see a dark young manand a fair young man. They will both influence your life. The fairyoung man works in his father's shop. He will have great riches."
"What about the other?" inquired Miss Dowson, after a somewhat lengthypause.
The fortune-teller shook her head. "He is his own worst enemy," shesaid, "and he will drag down those he loves with him. You are going tomarry one of them, but I can't see clear--I can't see which."
"Look again," said the trembling Flora.
"I can't see," was the reply, "therefore it isn't meant for me to see.It's for you to choose. I can see them now as plain as I can see you.You are all three standing where two roads meet. The fair young man isbeckoning to you and pointing to a big house and a motor-car and ayacht."
"And the other?" said the surprised Miss Dowson.
"He's in knickerbockers," said the other, doubtfully. "What does thatmean? Ah, I see! They've got the broad arrow on them, and he ispointing to a jail. It's all gone--I can see no more."
She dropped the girl's hand and, drawing her hand across her eyes, sankback into her chair. Miss Dowson, with trembling fingers, dropped thehalf crown into her lap, and, with her head in a whirl, made her waydownstairs.
After such marvels the streets seemed oddly commonplace as she walkedswiftly home. She decided as she went to keep her knowledge to herself,but inclination on the one hand and Mrs. Dowson on the other got thebetter of her resolution. With the exception of a few things in herpast, already known and therefore not worth dwelling upon, the whole ofthe interview was disclosed.
"It fair takes your breath away," declared the astounded Mr. Dowson.
"The fair young man is meant for Ben Lippet," said his wife, "and thedark one is Charlie Foss. It must be. It's no use shutting your eyes tothings."
"It's as plain as a pikestaff," agreed her husband. "And she toldCharlie five years for bigamy, and when she's telling Flora's Fortune shesees 'im in convict's clothes. How she does it I can't think."
"It's a gift," said Mrs. Dowson, briefly, "and I do hope that Flora isgoing to act sensible. Anyhow, she can let Ben Lippet come and see her,without going upstairs with the tooth-ache."
"He can come if he likes," said Flora; "though why Charlie couldn't have'ad the motor-car and 'im the five years, I don't know."
Mr. Lippet came in the next evening, and the evening after. In fact, soeasy is it to fall into habits of an agreeable nature that nearly everyevening saw him the happy guest of Mr. Dowson. A spirit of resignation,fostered by a present or two and a visit to the theatre, descended uponMiss Dowson. Fate and her mother combined were in a fair way toovercome her inclinations, when Mr. Foss, who had been out of town on ajob, came in to hear the result of her visit to the fortune-teller, andfound Mr. Lippet installed in the seat that used to be his.
At first Mrs. Dowson turned a deaf ear to his request for information,and it was only when his jocularity on the subject passed the bounds ofendurance that she consented to gratify his curiosity.
"I didn't want to tell you," she said, when she had finished, "but youasked for it, and now you've got it."
"It's very amusing," said Mr. Foss. "I wonder who the dark young man inthe fancy knickers is?"
"Ah, I daresay you'll know some day," said Mrs. Dowson.
"Was the fair young man a good-looking chap?" inquired the inquisitiveMr. Foss.
Mrs. Dowson hesitated. "Yes," she said, defiantly.
"Wonder who it can be?" muttered Mr. Foss, in perplexity.
"You'll know that too some day, no doubt," was the reply.
"I'm glad it's to be a good-looking chap," he said; "not that I thinkFlora believes in such rubbish as fortune-telling. She's too sensible."
"I do," said Flora. "How should she know all the things I did when I wasa little girl? Tell me that."
"I believe in it, too," said Mrs. Dowson. "P'r'aps you'll tell me I'mnot sensible!"
Mr. Foss quailed at the challenge and relapsed into moody silence. Thetalk turned on an aunt of Mr. Lippet's, rumored to possess money, and anuncle who was "rolling" in it. He began to feel in the way, and only hisnative obstinacy prevented him from going.
It was a relief to him when the front door opened and the heavy step ofMr. Dowson was heard in the tiny passage. If anything it seemed heavierthan usual, and Mr. Dowson's manner when he entered the room and greetedhis guests was singularly lacking in its usual cheerfulness. He drew achair to the fire, and putting his feet on the fender ga
zed moodilybetween the bars.
"I've been wondering as I came along," he said at last, with an obviousattempt to speak carelessly, "whether this 'ere fortune-telling as we'vebeen hearing so much about lately always comes out true."
"It depends on the fortune-teller," said his wife.
"I mean," said Mr. Dowson, slowly, "I mean that gypsy woman that
