Lady Lucy's Secret.
"She will cross the old gipsy's hand with silver."
"Don't you be frightened, my pretty little lady," said the old woman, in a coaxing voice. "No one shall hurt my pretty dear. She will cross the old gipsy's hand with silver, and see what a fine fortune I will tell her."
Lady Lucy and Anne looked at each other.
"Oh, yes; I know all about it," said the gipsy, nodding in a mysterious manner. "I know there is a fine gentleman at the wars whom she loves. And I know she has lately escaped from bondage and cruel oppressors, and all that has happened to her since."
Lucy and Anne again exchanged glances of awe and wonder,—both of them forgetting that this gipsy-woman could easily have learned all this from the gossip of the village.
And Lucy half whispered, "Do you suppose she could tell about the thimble?"
The gipsy-woman, like many other impostors of her class, had quick ears and quick wits. She caught the word "thimble," and easily guessed that Lucy had lost something of that sort.
"I can tell what has happened lately, too," she continued, in a mysterious tone. "I can see what is lost, and where it lies, shining like silver and gold, fit for a lady's finger when she is working for her true lover. Only cross the poor gipsy's hand with silver, and you shall see. As for you," she added, looking at Anne with a penetrating glance, "you have lately had a rise in life, and shall soon have another and there is a stout lad abroad at the wars who shall bring home a gold ring some day."
"Just hear that!" said Anne, turning pale. "How could she know any thing about John Martin, that went away to the wars with my lord?"