"Ah! my mother. Shall I not break her heart," said Aveline, with a sudden burst of tears.
"Never; you are in ill-health, and attach a meaning to words you would laugh at, if you were stronger. I do believe the worst suffering in illness is the dejection it causes. You should not allow yourself to be so weighed down."
"But if I die—"
"But do not think so. The woman saw you looked delicate, and thought she could turn her warning to a good account. I wish I—" Aveline seized his hand. A gipsy woman was advancing towards them from the other end of the terrace. He was at a loss what to do; he feared to leave Aveline for a single moment, lest she should faint; and still more he feared to let the woman come within speaking distance.
"Have no fears for me. She can say nothing that I do not know," said Aveline.
"Will you have your fortune told, my pretty lady and gentleman," said the woman advancing with the insinuating gestures of her tribe.
"No, there's money for you," said Mr. Haveloc, throwing the woman his purse heavy with gold, "there is more than you could earn. Go now, quickly, the lady is ill."
"Would she like," said the gipsy.
"No, I tell you. Go at once. You have no business here!"
The gipsy made a sign in the air with her hand which filled him with horror; it seemed to him as if she traced the outline of a coffin:—then laughed, turned, and vanished.