than
he had ever seen her before.

"Why, dad, dad," she cried, "oh! you must come in and join our fun.
Mustn't he, Maggie?"

"I am Caranina, the gipsy girl," said Maggie, dropping another low
curtsy, and holding her little tambourine in the most beseeching
attitude; "and you are Flora, queen of the flowers."

"Well, really, this is entertaining," said Mr. Cardew. "What queer
little minxes you all are! And may I really come in and see the fun?"

"Indeed you may, dad," said the flower-girl. "Oh, and please we want
you to look at Merry. Merry's a fairy, with wings. We're going to have
what we call an evening revel presently, and we are all in our dress
for the occasion. But Maggie--I mean Caranina--is telling our
fortunes--that is, until the real fun begins."

"Do please come in, Mr. Cardew. This is the height of good luck," said
Mrs. Tristram, coming forward herself at this moment. "Won't you join
my husband and me under the shadow of the tent yonder? The young
people are having such a good time."

"I will come for a minute or two," said Cardew, dismounting as he
spoke. "Can some one hold Hector for me?"

David was quickly summoned, and Mr. Cardew walked across the hay-field
to where the hastily improvised tent was placed.

"No one can enter here who doesn't submit to the will of the gipsy,"
remarked Caranina in her clear and beautiful voice. "This is my tent,
and I tell the fortunes of all those kind ladies and gentlemen who
will permit me to do so."

"Then you shall tell mine, with pleasure, little maid," said Mr.
Cardew, who felt wonderfully cheered and entertained at this _al
fresco_ amusement.

Quick as thought Maggie had been presented with a silver coin. With
this she crossed the good gentleman's palm, and murmured a few words
with regard to his future. There was nothing whatever remarkable in
her utterance, for Maggie knew nothing of palmistry, and was only a
very pretense gipsy fortune-teller. But she was quick--quicker than
most--in reading character; and as she glanced now into Mr. Cardew's
face an inspiration seized her.

"He is troubled about something," thought the girl. "It's the thin end
of the wedge; I'll push it in a little farther."

Her voice dropped to a low tone. "I see in your hand, kind sir," she
said, "all happiness, long life, and prosperity; but I also see a
little cross, just here--" she pointed with her pretty finger--"and it
means self-sacrifice for the sake of a great and las