chair to the fire, and putting his feet on the fender gazed moodily
between the bars.

"I've been wondering as I came along," he said at last, with an obvious
attempt to speak carelessly, "whether this 'ere fortune-telling as we've
been hearing so much about lately always comes out true."

"It depends on the fortune-teller," said his wife.

"I mean," said Mr. Dowson, slowly, "I mean that gypsy woman that Charlie
and Flora went to."

"Of course it does," snapped his wife. "I'd trust what she says afore
anything."

"I know five or six that she has told," said Mr. Lippet, plucking up
courage; "and they all believe 'er. They couldn't help themselves; they
said so."

"Still, she might make a mistake sometimes," said Mr. Dowson, faintly.
"Might get mixed up, so to speak."

"Never!" said Mrs. Dowson, firmly.

"Never!" echoed Flora and Mr. Lippet.

Mr. Dowson heaved a big sigh, and his eye wandered round the room. It
lighted on Mr. Foss.

"She's an old humbug," said that gentleman. "I've a good mind to put the