better."

Betty's eyes went back to her book again. Eugenia, thrusting one little
foot from a mass of pink ruffles, gave an impatient push against the
ground with the toe of her slipper, which set the hammock to swinging
violently.

"Ho-hum!" she yawned, discontently. "I wish that we could go down to the
gypsy camp that we passed yesterday."

"So do I," agreed Joyce. "It looked so picturesque with the tents and
the white covered wagons, and that old crone bending over the camp-fire.
I know a woman at home who had her fortune told by a gypsy, and every
single thing that was told her came true."

"I wonder how they can tell," said Eugenia.

"By the lines in their hands. It is as plain as the alphabet to some
people. They can tell how long you're going to live, whether you'll be
married or not, and what sort of a future you're to have. They say that
there are some lines in your hand that mean wealth, and some health, and
there are stars for success and crosses for losses and all sorts of
signs."

"Oh, how interesting!" cried Betty, again pausing in her story, and
spreading out her little brown hands, to examine them, Eugenia held up
one of her slim palms, and studied it intently, tracing the lines with a
tapering white forefinger.

"Here's a star in my hand," she cried, excitedly, "and all sorts of
queer lines and marks that I never noticed before. I wonder which is the
marriage line. Oh, girls, I'm just wild to have my fortune told. Let's
ride down to the camp before lunch."

"Costs too much," said Joyce, holding her sketch off at arm's length and
studying the effect through half-shut eyes. "Rob Moore said that his
brother Edward went over to the camp with a party, several nights ago,
and they had to pay a dollar apiece. That bars me out, for dollars don't
grow on bushes at my house. Besides, Bob said his brother said that they
are not real gypsies. The people around here think they are a set of
strolling horse thieves. Mister Edward says that the old woman looks
like a Florida cracker, and talks like one too, but she vows that she is
the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter and was born on the banks of
the Nile."

"That settles it!" cried Eugenia, "I am going." She turned the sparkling
rings on her finger and watched them reflect the light as she spoke.
"We'll all go. It will be my treat. I haven't touched my allowance since
I've been here, and papa gave me ten dollars more than usual this month.
There isn'