"It won't touch anything but your finger tips, and perhaps not those," Helen reassured her. "What you are to do is to dip the fingers of your left hand into one of these saucers. If it proves to be the one with the clear water you'll marry a bachelor; if it's the sandy one he'll be a widower, and if it's the empty one you'll be a spinster to your dying day."
"You have three tries," cried Ethel Blue, "and the saucers are changed after each trial, so you have to touch the same one twice to be sure you really know your fate. Are you ready?"
"I'm ready," and Della bravely though cautiously dipped the finger tips of her left hand into the bowl of sandy water.
A cheer greeted this result.
"A widower, a widower," they all cried.
Helen changed the position of the saucers and Della made another trial. This time the Fates booked her as a spinster.
"That's the least trouble of anything," decided roly poly Della who took life carelessly.
A third attempt proved that a widower was to be her future helpmate, for her fingers went into the sandy saucer for a second time.
"I only hope he won't be an oldy old widower," said Della thoughtfully. "I couldn't bear to think of marrying any one as old as Edward."
"I'll thank you to take notice that I haven't got a foot in the grave just yet, young woman," retorted her brother.