“It makes my life happy,” said she, “for it gives me a power over my father, and assures me that he will never marry me to anyone but the man of my choice.”
“I am delighted that you extract the only good that can proceed from this idle science, namely, the power to guide persons devoid of strength of will. But your father must think that I taught you the secret?”
“Yes, he does; and he said, one day, that he would forgive me any sacrifices I might have made to obtain this precious secret from you.”
“He goes a little further than we did, my dearest Esther.”
“Yes, and I told him that I had gained it from you without any sacrifice, and that now I was a true Pythoness without having to endure the torments of the tripod; and I am sure that the replies you gave were invented by yourself.”
“But if that were so how could I have known where the pocket-book was, or whether the ship was safe?”
“You saw the portfolio yourself and threw it where it was discovered, and as for the vessel you spoke at random; but as you are an honest man, confess that you were afraid of the results. I am never so bold as that, and when my father asks me questions of that kind, my replies are more obscure than a sibyl’s. I don’t wish him to lose confidence in my oracle, nor do I wish him to be able to reproach me with a loss that would injure my own interests.”
“If your mistake makes you happy I shall leave you in it. You are really a woman of extraordinary talents—, you are quite unique.”
“I don’t want your compliments,” said she, in a rather vexed manner, “I want a sincere avowal of the truth.”
“I don’t think I can go as far as that.”