Each evening, according to his declared intention, Jasper Wilde presented himself at David Moore's door.
"There's nothing like getting my bride-to-be a little used to me," he declared to her father, with a grim laugh.
Once after Jasper Wilde had bid Bernardine and her father good-night, he walked along the street, little caring in which direction he went, his mind was so preoccupied with trying to solve the problem of how to make this haughty girl care for him.
His mental query was answered in the strangest manner possible.
Almost from out the very bowels of the earth, it seemed—for certainly an instant before no human being was about—a woman suddenly appeared and confronted him—a woman so strange, uncanny, and weird-looking, that she seemed like some supernatural creature.
"Would you like to have your fortune told, my bonny sir?" she queried in a shrill voice. "I bring absent ones together, tell you how to gain the love of the one you want——"
"You do, eh?" cut in Jasper Wilde, sharply. "Well, now, if you can do anything like that, you ought to have been able to have retired, worth your millions, long ago, with people coming from all over the world to get a word of advice from you."
"I care nothing for paltry money," replied the old woman, scornfully. "I like to do all the good I can."
"Oh, you work for nothing, then? Good enough. You shall tell me my fortune, and how to win the love of the girl I care for. It will be cheap advice enough, since it comes free."
"I have to ask a little money," responded the old dame in a wheedling tone. "I can't live on air, you know. But let me tell you, sir, there's something I could tell you that you ought to know—you have a rival for the love of the girl you want. Look sharp, or you'll lose her."