"Gentiliska," said Sybil, "Tell me something about your great-grandmother. I feel interested in all that concerns gipsies."
"Well, but get up and dress for breakfast. I can talk while you are making your toilet."
"Certainly," said Sybil, immediately following the advice of her hostess, who with nimble hands began to help her to dress.
"My ancestress Gentiliska was the daughter of a long line of gipsy kings. On the death of her father, she became queen of the tribe."
"Her father had no sons?"
"Oh, yes, he had. But his daughter was made queen, I don't know why. She was very beautiful, and she sang and danced as charmingly as that beautiful Jewish princess, who danced off the head of holy 'John the Baptist.' She was an astute reader of human nature, and therefore a successful fortune teller. She always promised love to youth, money to the mature, and long life to the aged. One day at the races she told the fortune of a rich young man, in return for which he made hers."
"He married her."
"He did really marry her? You are sure?"
The girl flared up. "He took her abroad with him; and of course he married her."