She took the girl’s left hand, and pouring a little dark liquid into the palm gazed at it intently.  “Left for the past; right for the future,” she said, in a deep voice.

She muttered some strange words and bent her head lower over the girl’s hand.

[Illustration:  “She muttered some strange words and bent her head lower over the girl’s hand.”]

“I see a fair-haired infant,” she said, slowly; “I see a little girl of four racked with the whooping-cough; I see her later, eight she appears to be.  She is in bed with measles.”

Miss Dowson stared at her open-mouthed.

“She goes away to the seaside to get strong,” continued the sorceress; “she is paddling; she falls into the water and spoils her frock; her mother——­”

“Never mind about that,” interrupted the staring Miss Dowson, hastily.  “I was only eight at the time and mother always was ready with her hands.”

“People on the beach smile,” resumed the other.  “They

“It don’t take much to make some people laugh,” said Miss Dowson, with bitterness.

“At fourteen she and a boy next door but seven both have the mumps.”

“And why not?” demanded Miss Dowson with great warmth.  “Why not?”

“I’m only reading what I see in your hand,” said the other.  “At fifteen I see her knocked down by a boat-swing; a boy from opposite brings her home.”

“Passing at the time,” murmured Miss Dowson.

“His head is done up with sticking-plaster.  I see her apprenticed to a dressmaker.  I see her——­”

The voice went on monotonously, and Flora, gasping with astonishment, listened to a long recital of the remaining interesting points in her career.

“That brings us to the present,” said the soothsayer, dropping her hand.  “Now for the future.”

She took the girl’s other hand and poured some of the liquid into it.  Miss Dowson shrank back.

“If it’s anything dreadful,” she said, quickly, “I don’t want to hear it.  It—­it ain’t natural.”

“I can warn you of dangers to keep clear of,” said the other, detaining her hand.  “I can let you peep into the future and see what to do and what to avoid.  Ah!”

She bent over the girl’s hand again and uttered little ejaculations of surprise and perplexity.

“I see you moving in gay scenes surrounded by happy faces,” she said, slowly.  “You are much sought after.  Handsome presents and fine clothes are showered upon you.  You will cross the sea.  I see a dark young man and a fair young man.  They will both influence your life.  The fair young man works in his father’s shop.  He will have great riches.”

“What about the other?” inquired Miss Dowson, after a somewhat lengthy pause.

The fortune-teller shook her head.  “He is his own worst enemy,” she said, “and he will drag down those he loves with him.  You are going to marry one of them, but I can’t see clear—­I can’t see which.”