g conference, of all
persons in the world, with poor little Mrs. Nutter? Mrs. Mack had done
in this respect simply as she was bid. She had indeed no difficulty to
persuade Mrs. Nutter to grant the interview. That harmless little
giggling creature could not resist the mere mention of a fortune-teller.
Only for Nutter, who set his face against this sort of sham witchcraft,
she would certainly have asked him to treat her with a glimpse into
futurity at that famous-sibyl's house; and now that she had an
opportunity of having the enchantress _tete-a-tete_ in her own snug
parlour at the Mills, she was in a delightful fuss of mystery and
delight.

Mrs. Mack, indeed, from her own sad experience, felt a misgiving and a
pang in introducing the formidable prophetess. But what could she do?
She dared not refuse; all she could risk was an anxious hint to poor
little Mrs. Nutter, 'not to be telling her _anything_, good, bad, or
indifferent, but just to ask her what questions she liked, and no more.'
Indeed, poor Mrs. Mack was low and feverish about this assignation, and
would have been more so but for the hope that her Polonius, behind the
arras, would bring the woman of Endor to her knees.

All on a sudden she heard the rumble and jingle of a hackney coach, and
the clang of the horses' hoofs pulled up close under her window; her
heart bounded and fluttered up to her mouth, and then dropped down like
a lump of lead, and she heard a well-known voice talk a few sentences to
the coachman, and then in the hall, as she supposed, to Biddy; and so
she came into the room, dressed as usual in black, tall, thin, and
erect, with a black hood shading her pale face and the mist and chill of
night seemed to enter along with her.

It was a great relief to poor Mrs. Mack, that she actually saw Biddy at
that moment run across the street toward Toole's hall-door, and she
quickly averted her conscious glance from the light-heeled handmaid.

'Pray take a chair, Ma'am,' said Mrs. Mack, with a pallid face and a low
courtesy.

Mistress Matchwell made a faint courtesy in return, and, without saying
anything, sat down, and peered sharply round the room.

'I'm glad, Ma'am, you had no dust to-day; the rain, Ma'am, laid it
beautiful.'

The grim woman in black threw back her hood a little, and showed her
pale face and thin lips, and prominent black eyes, altogether a grisly
and intimidating countenance, with something wild and suspicious in it,
suiting