"Is it that ma'm'selle will go to the theater?" asked Fifine. "But no, she can not go alone. Tiens! Why not have your fortune told?"
"Where?" said Lena, struck with this novel suggestion.
"There is one clairvoyant in this street, who always tells true. She is called Vesta Levine."
"Have you been there?"
"Oui, ma'm'selle, and she tell me I shall some day marry a prince, with so much money he can not spend it."
"That is encouraging," said Miss Van Hoosen with a smile. "Give me my hat; we will go to your fortune-teller, for I should like to know whom I am likely to marry."
"In France," exclaimed Fifine, "women never marry; it is the men who marry them. What is the difference? marriage is a lottery."
Lena was quickly attired. With her face hidden by a thick vail, and accompanied by her maid she went to visit the clairvoyant who was spoken of so highly.
She had no faith in the art of fortune-telling, and believed astrology to be all nonsense, but in every woman's breast there is a slight undercurrent of superstition.
Consequently she fancied, in spite of her reason, that there might be something in it.