"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.
"Rose-coloured shall all your days be," said the gentleman, with an amused glance at his companion, "if----" and paused.
"Yes--if----" prompted the lady.
"If," continued the gentleman, "you cross the poor gipsy's hand with silver. Isn't that so?" addressing the gipsy.
The woman smiled deferentially, and held out her hand to receive the silver which the lady took from her purse.