“Nay, lady,” she said, “take not what I have told you as any proof of skill; a boy who saw half what I did unperceived would readily have guessed that secret. One look more. Your love will end prosperously; but the time is hidden from me. Trials and disappointments interfere, but prudence and patience will overcome them. May you be happy! It would be, in sooth, a pity if sorrow should dim so sweet an eye, or cloud a brow so beautiful. And now, to see what fate designs for you, sir.”
The kindly tone of voice in which she conveyed her wishes for Isidora’s happiness of course had its full influence on me, and I freely presented the hand she desired—but still a sceptic smile accompanied the offer, and showed that in palmistry I was an unbeliever. She affected not to notice it, but proceeded with her mystic examination.
“Well,” I said, laughing, “what has fortune in reserve for me?”
“Much that I can see, and more that is wrapped in mystery.”
“Proceed.”
“I see present danger, followed by perilous adventure. The end, however, looks happy.”
“The danger,” I exclaimed; “whence and from whom?”
“The source I see; the time’s uncertain.”
“Pshaw! this is mere folly—some proof. Give me this, or I shall say your art is all speculation on the common results of life, and founded on chance of circumstances.”
“Ask, and I’ll answer you.”