“And then run round to Crawford House and have some hot chocolate,” said Zay.
It was a winter when Tam o’ Shanters were all the rage. Zay had a white one with two fluffy rose-colored rosettes. As she passed through the hall she saw Clara Arnold’s blue one lying on the bed. She had always tabooed blue. Now with a sudden impulse she put it on. Clara had gone to the musicale and would not be home until late. Then she gathered up her curls and stuffed them in the crown. Yes, she did suggest the Boyd girl. The resemblance teased her, and the girls had found that out. She wound a veil around her head and they stole through the hall when it was deserted and went scuddering through the Park.
It was a cloudy afternoon, not one to go out for pleasure, and then everybody had wanted to go down town. Mrs. Trenham lived in the corner house. There was a garden space between, then a high fence. Phillipa rang the bell.
A rather unkempt, middle-aged woman answered it.
“Could we see the Clairvoyant?”
“Well,” hesitatingly. “All of you? I’m rather—yes, walk in.”
The room was untidy, the books on the table dusty, and some clothing thrown over several chairs.
“Young girls always want a peep in the future,” and she gave an abrupt laugh. “You don’t any of you look as if you needed medical advice. My, I seldom see such rosy, good looking girls. Now, I’ll tell you—it’s a dollar if I go into a trance and see you inside, up and down and I can tell to a T whether there’s anything the matter. But I don’t believe you want that. S’pose I just run over the cards and see what kind of a Christmas you’re going to have and how many lovers and who’s going to wear a diamond. That’s fifty cents.”
“That’s enough to spend on such foolery,” laughed Phillipa.
She pushed out some chairs and took up a pack of cards, threw them aside and took a clean pack off of the mantlepiece. “Now you try first,” motioning to Phillipa. “Why I can see by your face there’s lots of fortune coming to you. You’re the kind of girl men quarrel over.”