"The gipsy woman knows everything, and sees everything, pretty lady."
The circumstance of being called pretty lady in so winsome a voice was honey to Sally's soul.
Seeing no way but one out of the difficulty, Seth gave the woman a sixpenny-piece, which she, suspicious of the tricks of Londoners of a common grade, placed between her teeth to test. Sally meanwhile, having an arm disengaged, clasped the Duchess's waist, and drew her close to her side. The gipsy cast a rapid glance upon the two children, noting the tenderness expressed in the action, and then fell to examining Sally's hand.
"You see the usual things in it, of course," said Seth, with but small respect in his tone for the woman's art. "What usual things?" asked the gipsy.
"Not in the present," said Seth, somewhat repentant of his rashness in angering the woman, as he saw Sally turn pale.
"No, not in the present. Trouble in the past, trouble in the future."
"Easy to predict. Trouble comes to all of us."
"Look here, master. Are you reading the signs or me?"
"You; and you read them in the usual way."
"Is it reading them in the usual way to tell you that you are not this little lady's father?"
"Is it reading them in the usual way to tell you that this little lady's trouble in the future will come from love?"
"A dark or fair man?" asked Seth, still bantering, for the purpose of inspiring Sally with courage.
"From no man, dark or fair. From love of a woman."
"Of a woman!" exclaimed Seth, biting his lip.
"Ay, of a woman, when this little lady herself is a woman." A curtsey from the gipsy caused Seth to turn his head, and he saw that other persons had joined the party: a gentleman of middle age and a lady richly dressed.
"Come," said the gentleman, with a careless attempt to draw the lady from the group.
"No," protested the lady, "no, Mr. Temple; I must positively stop. I dote on fortune-telling; I've had mine told a hundred times."
"It's a bright fortune, my lady," said the gipsy, still retaining Sally's hand, "as bright as this summer's day."
"It is evening now," observed the gentleman addressed as Mr. Temple. "Better not stop. The grey shadows are coming."
"There are no grey shadows for my lady," quickly answered the gipsy.