of Mr. Dowson. A spirit of resignation,
fostered by a present or two and a visit to the theatre, descended upon
Miss Dowson. Fate and her mother combined were in a fair way to
overcome her inclinations, when Mr. Foss, who had been out of town on a
job, came in to hear the result of her visit to the fortune-teller, and
found Mr. Lippet installed in the seat that used to be his.

At first Mrs. Dowson turned a deaf ear to his request for information,
and it was only when his jocularity on the subject passed the bounds of
endurance that she consented to gratify his curiosity.

"I didn't want to tell you," she said, when she had finished, "but you
asked for it, and now you've got it."

"It's very amusing," said Mr. Foss. "I wonder who the dark young man in
the fancy knickers is?"

"Ah, I daresay you'll know some day," said Mrs. Dowson.

"Was the fair young man a good-looking chap?" inquired the inquisitive
Mr. Foss.

Mrs. Dowson hesitated. "Yes," she said, defiantly.

"Wonder who it can be?" muttered Mr. Foss, in perplexity.

"You'll know that too some day, no doubt," was the reply.

"I'm glad it's to be a good-looking chap," he said; "not that I think
Flora believes in such rubbish as fortune-telling. She's too sensible."

"I do," said Flora. "How should she know all the things I did when I was
a little girl? Tell me that."

"I believe in it, too," said Mrs. Dowson. "P'r'aps you'll tell me I'm
not sensible!"

Mr. Foss quailed at the challenge and relapsed into moody silence. The
talk turned on an aunt of Mr. Lippet's, rumored to possess money, and an
uncle who was "rolling" in it. He began to feel in the way, and only his
native obstinacy prevented him from going.

It was a relief to him when the front door opened and the heavy step of
Mr. Dowson was heard in the tiny passage. If anything it seemed heavier
than usual, and Mr. Dowson's manner when he entered the room and greeted
his guests was singularly lacking in its usual cheerfulness. He drew a
chair to the fire, and putting his feet on the fender gazed moodily
between the bars.

"I've been wondering as I came along," he said at last, with an obvious
attempt to speak carelessly, "whether this 'ere fortune-telling as we've
been hearing so much about lately always comes out true."

"It depends on the fortune-teller," said his wife.

"I mean," said Mr. Dowson, slowly, "I mean that gypsy woman that Charlie
and Flora went to."

"Of course it