"Do you mean... you are a fortuneteller?”

"Oh, come! Do I look that sort? A lady does not call herself a fortune-teller; that suggests a gipsy, does it not, one who must have her palm crossed with silver before she will ply her trade?”

Hot blood rushed into Carolan's face.

"I am very sorry... I should have known.”

The woman threw back her head and laughed. Her teeth flashed. Carolan caught a glimpse of gold earrings.

"Bless you, my dear," said the woman, "I did not mean to embarrass you.

In a measure you are right; nature does not discriminate when she bestows her gifts. I can see into the future; only... I do not ply my accomplishment as a trade.”

"I... see...”

"Ah! But not so clearly as I see a wonderful fortune for you!”

Carolan was breathless, eager, lips parted, eyes shining; her hood fell back from her glowing hair.

"You can see that for me?”

There is mystery about you.”

Carolan blushed; she was sure the woman knew that she had run away.

"Are you by any chance going to join your lover?”

Carolan was silent. Very soon of course she would join Everard; perhaps it would be sooner than she expected.

"You are running away from your home," went on the woman, her dark eyes shining with prophecy. I see you are greatly loved.”

"You are indeed clever!" said Carolan.

"I will tell you what I will do. I will read your palm; that will tell me more than your face. Come and sit nearer me, my dear. No! I will join you on the window seat.”

Wonderful things could happen to you if you were bold and took from life what you wanted; that was what Carolan was learning. How much older she was now than the girl who had left Haredon but a few days ago! How much wiser than Margaret who would never undertake such an adventure! The kindness of people! The merchant's wife who had befriended her; this lady, who, for no payment at all, would tell her fortune, and just because she had a lucky face!

She sat on the window seat beside Carolan. She smelt of musk.

"Give me your palm, my dear. There! Why, what a little hand! A pretty little hand; and scarcely any hard work has this little hand been forced to do. Perhaps it has gripped a pair of reins, eh? Ah!

You lived quietly in the country, did you not? And a little pet among those with whom you lived. There is much love in your life, child. And in the country you met your lover." A very long thin finger touched Carolan's palm.

"And there was some disagreement, eh, some little bit of trouble?

Disapproval of the match from those who loved you and wanted to keep you with them a little longer?”

Carolan was red and white by turns, for surely she was in the presence of a seer! So it was all written there, was it? Everything that had happened to her.

The woman's fingers closed about her hand.

"Never fear, all will be well. Very soon you will be a wife. Do not be dissuaded from true romance. It is a headstrong little girl you are fond of your own way. Am I not right? Already you know something of the charm those green eyes hold. Well, well, that is natural. One thing, my dear, do not be so ready to trust those around you. I think perhaps you are over-trusting.”

Carolan's eyes were dreamy. It was true, absolutely true. How readily she had trusted Charles at the first show of friendship. How innocently had she believed in the fatherly affection of the squire!

London was indeed an enchanting place; how glad she was that she had come! How wise she had been!

"Thank you!" she murmured.

"Thank you!”

The lady's laughter rang out and echoed in the rafters of the inn parlour.

"Do not thank me, my child. Thank fate that gave you you beauty and your charm.”

"You should not say such things," protested Carolan, longing for the lady to repeat them.

"They are not really true.”

"So you doubt my word ?”

"Oh... no... no! I know you are speaking the truth... about what is happening, but__' "Ah! So modest? Or not so modest, eh? Which is it?”

And the keen black eyes seemed to look right through Carolan, making her blush for very shame.

"But, my child," said the lady, 'you must not think I am laughing at you. If I laugh it is because there is something beautiful about youth and innocence. How I hope that your dearest wish will be granted!

Come, I will see what I can do to give you that wish. Give me your hand. See! I will hold your wrist lightly, thus. Now close your eyes. Keep them fast shut until I say you may open them. Now wish.

Just repeat the wish over to yourself- not aloud. None but yourself must know your dearest wish. There! Have you said it to yourself?

Then say it again. Your dearest wish. Open your eyes. Perhaps now it will come.”

Carolan opened her eyes. She was still saying to herself: "Let Everard come at once to me in London. Let him leave everything and come!”

"Your wish will come true," said her kind friend.

"I know your wish will come true.”

"You are so kind to me, I do not know how to thank you!”

"It is not I who am kind it is life. And I do not like thanks.”

She drained off her ale.

"You are going?" said Carolan, disappointed.

"I must be on my way. Goodbye, my child, and one word more before I go. Guard that impulsive nature of yours. Do not be so ready to trust. Remember that, will you, my dear, and little can go wrong with you, for you have a high good spirit, and it is such as you that Life loves. But remember not too trustful!”

"I will remember," said Carolan.

"And you are right, wonderfully right. I shall never forget you.”

"No, my dear, I do not think you will. Our meeting must have been ordained. I feel it here." She touched her bosom, and a smile that was oddly mischievous sat upon her face.

She went out, and Carolan saw her make her stately way past the window.

She did not look in though, and Carolan remembered that she was hungry, and sat back to enjoy her bread and cheese. Life was wonderful. Very soon she would be married to Everard, for had she not wished that he would leave everything and come to her, and was not her wish to be granted? And in the meantime she was to enjoy this adventure of getting to her own dear Mamma and the father she would surely love. Would it be possible to hire a carriage to take her to the house? She wondered how much a carriage would cost. She would ask the landlord or one of the ostlers what would be best. And she would go now, for she was eager to see her mother and her father.

She drew on the hood of her cloak and went to the mirror on the sideboard to pat the tendrils of hair at her temple.

Excited like this she was certainly pretty, as pretty as Margaret perhaps, but in a different way. She was staring at her dress, for the pearl and turquoise brooch which the squire had given her on her last birthday was not there. Her fingers flew to her dress in dismay; she could not believe the mirror was telling the truth. The brooch had gone. She began to ask herself if she had put it on that morning. Had she left it in the inn on the other side of Bagshot Heath? But no.

Distinctly she remembered she had the brooch pinned in her dress when she came into this parlour.

Well, she had lost it; she must.resign herself to that. Did it matter?

Every time she put it on she thought of the squire's hot fingers fastening it at her neck, as he had done on the day he had given it to her. But though she was young she was no fool. The lady had come very close to her when she had made her wish. She had felt her close while she murmured the wish over and over again to herself. Oh, how wicked she was to think such evil thoughts of one who had been so kind I But, wicked as she was, she was feeling in the pocket of her cloak to make sure that she still had her purse.

The purse had gone ... had disappeared as surely as the brooch!

Hot anger burned in Carolan's cheeks. Not for the loss of her brooch and her purse ... oh, no, that was a loss certainly, but there was something that went deeper than that. Oh, the wickedness! To say such things! The deceit! The pretence! The hypocrisy!

I'd have her beaten! Carolan said to herself furiously. I'd have her jailed, sent to Newgate! I'd have her hanged! The wicked old thief!

Carolan ran out into the yard. She was young and fleet, and the woman had been neither. Eagerly Carolan looked about her, but there was no sign of her quarry. Out in the street people glanced curiously at her, noting her flaming face. If I catch her, thought Carolan, oh ... if I catch her! She thought she had a glimpse of her, and started to run, but even before she had collided with an old woman selling bunches of lavender, she realized she had been mistaken.

"Look where you are going, lady!" scolded the lavender woman, and then seeing Carolan's good clothes she held out her wares and chanted: "Sweet blooming lavender, lady. Won't you buy my sweet blooming lavender...?”

Carolan looked into the seamed face before her, ugly from the pox, and lined with cares.

"I have no money," she said.

"I have just been robbed of my purse.”

With some, that might have been an excuse not to buy. but one does not sell lavender outside the Oxford Arms day in and day out without learning something of human nature; and here was a young face, a young and lovely face with wonderful green eyes that flashed anger and pity together, and a tremulous mouth that had not yet learned to give the ready lie to a pestering street crier.