"Only two or three more," said Jean encouragingly. "Here's one of them, now."
"Fine or superfine?"
"Fine."
"Fine? Let's see, I know whose 'tis," meditated Jessie. "Oh, I haven't any ideas left! Let him.
"'Bow to the wittiest,
Kneel to the prettiest,
And kiss the one he loves best.'"
Like most sensible mothers, Mrs. Adams had a horror of anything like kissing games; and now she frowned a little, in spite of herself. No one of the V, she felt sure, would have pronounced this fine. She turned to glance at Alan who stood for a moment, blushing as his eye moved over the group. Then he walked up to Polly and bowed low, passed on to Katharine's chair where he dropped on one knee, and then, walking straight to Mrs. Adams, he bent down and kissed her cheek with a heartiness which was not all play. She put out her hand and drew him down on the sofa, at her side.
"Thank you, dear," she whispered. "It was a pretty compliment, and we old people enjoy such things, you may be sure."
"It was true," said Alan simply, as he settled himself beside her with a confiding, little-boyish motion.
The last forfeit had not been redeemed, when the heavy portieres swung open, and a figure swathed in dark draperies and with a veil over her face came slowly into the room. The girls gazed doubtfully at this ghostly apparition, till a brown hand—was extended and a deep voice spoke from under the veil,—
"I am here to reveal the future. To-night is the time to know the secret of your coming lives. Let the oldest advance first."