“And having got from her all you are likely to get,” said Laura, coolly, “your prophecies are ended, are they?”
Queen Grace waved her hand toward the tent flap. “Send in one of your companions,” she said. “Any one of them. I am angry with you, and when passion controls me I can see nothing, little lady.”
But Laura Belding went forth, fully determined that none of her friends should waste their money upon the chance that the Gypsy queen might see into the future for them.
“It’s wicked, anyway,” decided Mother Wit. “If God thought it best for us to know what the future had in store for us, he would have put it within the power of every person to know what was coming. Professional palmists, and fortune-tellers of all sorts, are merely wicked persons who wish to get foolish people’s money!”
She found the six other girls grouped in the middle of the camp, trying to understand one of the women, who was talking to them, and evidently not a little frightened.
“Oh, Laura! How did it go?” demanded Jess, running to her.
“Very bad. She is a fraud,” whispered Mother Wit. “And look out! they think we have seen the girl who ran away and they will try to pump us about her.”
“That’s what I thought,” declared Jess.
“Know all about your past and future, Laura?” asked Bobby Hargrew.
“Dear me! it makes me shiver to think of it,” said Nellie. “Does she stir a cauldron, and call on the spirits of the earth and air?”