"That shows how much you know, and now I doubt your power to tell any one's thoughts, since you can't tell mine."
"Oh, yes, but I can, if you want me to prove it, I'll tell you who you're thinking of at this moment."
"Do, and I'll believe anything."
"Cousin Pether!"
Pat fairly started from his seat; large drops suddenly gathered on his brow; he was frightened.
Biddy, seeing her advantage, went on: "You're a purty fellow, to call my power in question. I've a great mind to make you feel it in airnest. Will I go on or not?"
"Go on; anything," said Pat; "I'll say no more."
Biddy then shuffled the dirty pack of cards, cut and set them out in her lap, saying, as she proceeded: "Bad—nothing but bad luck. There, that queen of clubs is your sweetheart, and that knave of hearts must be Cousin Pether; he's rather carroty-headed."
Pat groaned.
"Here's a wedding," Biddy went on, "and lots of money, to who? Let me see: if it isn't to that knave of hearts again."