“I’ll tell him but he knows already.”

“I think of it often and I hope and pray that life is not unbearable wherever he is.”

“He will come through whatever happens to him.”

“You are sure of that?”

“My daughter is and she is the one who sees beyond what ordinary people see.”

“And you are all right in your camp?”

“Very comfortable, thank you. Your father has been good to us.”

“He remembers too and wishes he could have done more at the trial.”

“He has given us permission to stay for a few weeks, but we shall be moving on shortly.”

“To the West Country, I believe. Your daughter told me. Will you remind her that we shall expect her tomorrow afternoon?”

I rode on.

When I told Amaryllis that Leah was coming over to read our palms, she was intrigued. Who does not like having one’s fortune told? Even the men do, I think, though they would probably deny it.

However, there was no doubt of Amaryllis’ interest.

The next day Jeanne came to the house with some embroidery she had done for my mother. To my surprise Tamarisk came with her. She wanted to see the puppies which had been born to one of the Labradors; and as Amaryllis and I were meeting Leah one of the maids was asked to take her to the kennels.

Amaryllis and I were in the garden when Leah arrived. She wore a red skirt with a simple white blouse; her hair was piled high to make a crown about her head and there were gold coloured rings in her ears. About her waist was a thick leather belt. She looked quite regal. “The queen of the gypsies,” I said to Amaryllis as we saw her approaching.

I said: “We are going to find a sheltered spot in the garden because if the servants discover that you are telling fortunes they won’t give you any peace.”

“I like only to tell when I have something to tell,” she replied.

We walked across the grass to the summer house.

“Let’s go in here,” said Amaryllis.

“You may well have nothing to tell us,” I said.

“I am sure there will be something.”

“And for me?” asked Amaryllis.

“We shall see. There is serenity all about you. It is the best. It makes for happiness … but happiness often means that there is not much to tell.”

We seated ourselves on the chairs in the summer house. There was a small white topped table there. As Leah sat down I noticed that her belt had a sheath attached to it. She was carrying a knife. I remembered what her father had said about her taking care to protect herself. The knife was such a startling contrast to her gentle demeanour. It was very understandable, I thought. If what had happened to her had happened to me, I should want to carry a knife in my belt.

First she turned to Amaryllis and took her palm. They made a charming picture—their heads close—one so fair, one so dark. Two of the most beautiful women I had ever seen—and so different. Amaryllis so open, so innocent in a way; Leah dark, brooding, her eyes full of secret knowledge—and wearing a belt with a knife in it!

“I see happiness,” she said. “Yes, I felt it immediately. You walk through life calmly, as the young do. You are young in heart and that is a good thing to be. There are dangers all around you … below you … above you … but you walk straight through and you look neither up nor down, and because you see no evil, evil cannot harm you.”

“It sounds a little dull,” said Amaryllis. “I should like to know what all these dangers are.”

Leah shook her head. “This is the best way. You are a lucky lady. That much I can tell you.”

Amaryllis looked faintly disappointed but Leah could say no more.

Then she turned to me. I held out my palm and she took it.

“Oh yes …” She touched my hand lightly and looked up at me. Her dark eyes seemed to bore right through me and I felt my secret thoughts were revealed to her, my petty jealousies and vanities, my less than admirable nature.

She said: “You will be much sought after and there will be a choice to be made. So much will depend on that choice.”

“Can’t you see what I should do?”

She answered: “There is always free will. There are divided paths. It is for you to decide. If you take one you must beware.”

“How shall I know which is the dangerous path?”

She paused and bit her lip. “You are strong in your will. Whatever happens to you will be your choice. You can come through. But you must be wary. All about you I see forces … forces of evil.”

“What sort of evil?”

She shook her head. “I saw this … and I wanted to tell you. You must be careful. Do not act rashly. Be careful.”

“How can I when I don’t know of what to be careful?”

“Take care in all your actions. The time of choice will come, depend on that. You go one way and the evil will not be there. You take one path and then … it is there.”

“What sort of evil? Death?”

She did not answer.

“So it is death,” I insisted.

“It is not clear. Death could be there … Not yours. A death. That is all I can say.”

“And you saw all this when you met me. You wanted to come and warn me.”

“I did not know what I should find. I never know. But I had the strong feeling that I wanted to warn you.”

She released my hand and looked at me helplessly; and at that moment the door of the summer house opened. I looked towards it in dismay. She had shaken me a little with her warning and I wanted to hear more.

It was Tamarisk who stood there. She was dressed in a red dress with a light navy blue cloak. The combination was beautiful. Jeanne made most of her clothes and the colours always blended delightfully.

“What do you want, Tamarisk?” I asked.

“To see you,” she replied. “What you are doing?” She stared at Leah. “You’re the gypsy,” she added.

“Yes, I am.”

“I know about you. Jenny and Mab told me.”

“They told you?” I said sharply.

“No … not me … but I heard them. You live in the woods and tell fortunes.”

Tamarisk approached and stood still, looking intently at Leah.

As for Leah herself she could not take her eyes off the child. I thought she was struck by her extraordinary beauty.

“Tell my fortune,” said Tamarisk.

“Fortune telling is not for children,” I said.

“Oh yes, it is. It’s for everybody.”

Leah had taken the small hand which had been thrust into hers. She said gently: “When you are young, there is nothing written in the palm. It comes when you grow older.”

“Nothing written on it!” She seized my hand and studied it. “There’s nothing written on Jessica’s.”

“It is not writing with a pen,” explained Leah. “It’s written by life.”

“Who is Life?”

“What we are … what we are growing up to.”

“I want Life to write on my hands.”

“It will,” said Leah with a smile. “I think it may have a great deal to write.”

That pleased Tamarisk, but she was bored with fortunes if she was not to have one yet.

“There are four puppies. I like the big one. He squeals a lot and he is very greedy.”

“Who took you down to show you the puppies?”

“Jenny.”

“Where is she now?”

Tamarisk lifted her shoulders. “Do gypsies have puppies?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” Leah told her. “We have our dogs and some of them have puppies.”

“Where does Life write on them? They haven’t got hands.”

“It would find somewhere no doubt,” said Amaryllis.

Tamarisk was quite taken with Leah. She put her hands on her knees and looked up at her searchingly.

“You’ve got gold rings in your ears.”

“Yes,” said Leah.

“I want gold rings in my ears.”

“Tamarisk always wants everything everyone else may have,” I said.

“I want gold in my ears,” she repeated.

“Perhaps one day …” began Amaryllis.

“I want it now. They are always saying one day,” she told Leah. “Do you live in a caravan?”

“Yes.”

“Do you sleep there?”

“Yes. Sometimes if it is a very hot night we sleep out of doors … under the sky and when we wake in the night we can see the stars twinkling overhead. And sometimes there’s a moon.”

“I want to sleep under the stars.”

“Perhaps you will… one day.”

“You say it now. One day! I never want one day. I always want now.”

I heard an agitated voice: “Miss Tamarisk. Miss Tamarisk. Where are you?”

Tamarisk buried her head in Leah’s lap. I noticed how gently Leah’s long brown fingers touched the dark straight hair.

I went to the door of the summer house and said: “She’s here, Jenny. Did you think you had lost her?”

“She ran off and when I turned round she had gone, Miss Frenshaw.”

“Well, she’s here now. She ought to be put on a chain like a little dog.”

Tamarisk lifted her head and put out her tongue at me.

“Oh, certainly she should be,” I went on. “And taught how to behave.”

“I know how to behave.”

“Well, why not practise what you know?”

“Come along, Miss Tamarisk,” said Jenny. “Jeanne is waiting to go.”

She took Tamarisk firmly by the hand and led her away.

“She is a beautiful child,” said Leah as the door of the summer house closed.

“And a very unmanageable one. They spoil her.”

“She has a look of…”

“Romany Jake?” I said. “He is her father.”

Leah nodded; her face was full of secrets and I did not know what she was thinking.

“Poor Tamarisk,” said Amaryllis, “her mother is dead.”

“She has her father …” began Leah.

“A father who does not know of her existence!” went on Amaryllis.