“Dear me!” said fat Mrs. Chester, waking up from a semi-doze, and trying to get interested in the subject. “Does he do drawing-room tricks?”
“Oh no, he doesn’t do tricks;” and Lord Melthorpe looked a little amused. “He isn’t that sort of man at all; I’m afraid I explain myself badly. I mean that he can tell you extraordinary things about your past and future——”
“Oh, by your hand—I know!” and the pretty Idina nodded her head sagaciously. “There really is something awfully clever in palmistry. I can tell fortunes that way!”
“Can you?” Lord Melthorpe smiled indulgently, and went on,—“But it so happens that El-Râmi does not tell anything by the hands,—he judges by the face, figure, and movement. He doesn’t make a profession of it; but, really, he does foretell events in rather a curious way now and then.”
“He certainly does!” agreed Vaughan, rousing himself from a reverie into which he had fallen, and fixing his eyes on the small piquante features of the girl opposite him. “Some of his prophecies are quite remarkable.”
“Really! How very delightful!” said Miss Chester, who was fully aware of Sir Frederick’s intent, almost searching, gaze, but pretended to be absorbed in buttoning one of her gloves. “I must ask him to tell me what sort of fate is in store for me—something awful, I’m positive! Don’t you think he has horrid eyes?—splendid, but horrid? He looked at me in the theatre——”
“My dear, you looked at him first,” murmured Mrs. Chester.
“Yes; but I’m sure I didn’t make him shiver. Now, when he looked at me, I felt as if some one were pouring cold water very slowly down my back. It was such a creepy sensation! Do fasten this, mother—will you?” and she extended the hand with the refractory glove upon it to Mrs. Chester, but Vaughan promptly interposed:
“Allow me!”
“Oh, well! if you know how to fix a button that is almost off!” she said laughingly, with a blush that well became her transparent skin.