Supper over, they returned to the big hall, and sat around the roaring log fire, while the next entertainment took place.
Lollie escorted Bernice dutifully to a chair, and then, feeling his duty done, he left her, and went over to speak to Dotty.
“You wished that on me,” he said, accusingly. “I thought she was you!”
“Why, Lollie Henry! I refuse to be mistaken for Bernice Forbes! How dare you?” Dotty’s dark eyes flashed and she looked a pretty picture in her mock rage.
“Needn’t get huffy,” returned Lollie, serenely. “B. F. is some looker, all right. To-night, anyway.”
Bernice was a pretty girl, and her green costume was exceedingly becoming, but the last few minutes had not been pleasant ones, for since Lollie’s defection, no one had spoken to her, and she looked resentful.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Dotty returned. “She might be pretty if she didn’t look cross enough to bite a nail in two.”
“Guess she’s made that way, and can’t help it,” said Lollie, and then they were called to attention.
It was to be Fortune Telling, Mr. Rawlins informed them.
“And,” he said, “if you will all seat yourselves round the fire, I will tell each and every one of you just what will happen in the years to come. Aren’t you anxious to know?”