More amused than alarmed, the lady complied.
THE FORTUNE-TELLER’S MAGIC MIRROR.
“Still I see nothing but myself and a dark glass behind me,” she said.
“Look steadfastly into the glass. Now!” exclaimed the woman.
“O, what—what do I see?” cried the girl. “’Tis he! ’tis Mr. ——”
“Don’t be alarmed; ’tis your future husband. No power can prevent it. It is fate—fate! But it will be a happy consummation,” said the woman, closing the mirror.
“Why, I left him at home, surely; and I came by steam. That is a solid wall! Ah, my fate is decreed, I believe!”
Can the reader suppose any sensible person would believe this to be magic? There are thousands who believe it. Miss —— was one. She had seen the spiritual representation of her future husband, and, finding him at home on her return, the same afternoon, she accepted him as her betrothed, and the other was dismissed.
Her ruin followed. In the flight of her lover, her hopes were forever blasted. To hide her shame, she went secretly from home; and to earn her daily bread, she labored in a cotton factory. When she could no longer cover her shame in the world, she went without—into outer darkness! Her parents went down in sorrow to their untimely graves.