“Yes, every word,” said Mr. Wilbur solemnly. “She was married three months before her twenty-second birthday, and her husband was just the kind of man that was predicted. Wasn't that strange?”
“The fortune-teller might easily have guessed all that. Most girls are married as young as that.”
“But not to tall, light-complexioned men!” said Wilbur triumphantly.
“Is there anything you wish particularly to know?” asked Phil.
“I should like to know if I am going to marry—you know who.”
“The daisy?”
“Yes.”
Phil was not much in favor of the scheme, but finally agreed to it.
There was a certain “Veiled Lady,” who advertised her qualifications in the Herald, as the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, and therefore gifted with the power to read the future. Mr. Wilbur made choice of her, and together they went to call upon her one evening.
They were shown into an anteroom, and in due time Mr. Wilbur was called into the dread presence. He was somewhat nervous and agitated, but “braced up,” as he afterward expressed it, and went in. He wanted Phil to go in with him, but the attendant said that madam would not allow it, and he went forward alone.