for mine, as if it were spoken by an oracle to a princess."

"Truth," said the Soothsayer, "can neither be bought nor sold;" and he
pushed back her proffered offering with morose disdain.

"Well, then," said the lady, "I'll keep my money, Mr. Elshender, to
assist me in the chase I am to pursue."

"You will need it," replied the cynic; "without it, few pursue
successfully, and fewer are themselves pursued.--Stop!" he said to Miss
Vere, as her companions moved off, "With you I have more to say.
You have what your companions would wish to have, or be thought to
have,--beauty, wealth, station, accomplishments."

"Forgive my following my companions, father; I am proof both to flattery
and fortune-telling."

"Stay," continued the Dwarf, with his hand on her horse's rein, "I am
no common soothsayer, and I am no flatterer. All the advantages I
have detailed, all and each of them have their corresponding
evils--unsuccessful love, crossed affections, the gloom of a convent,
or an odious alliance. I, who wish ill to all mankind, cannot wish more
evil to you, so much is your course of life crossed by it."

"And if it be, father, let me enjoy the readiest solace of adversity
while prosperity is in my power. You are old; you are poor; your
habitation is far from human aid, were you ill, or in want; your
situation, in many respects, exposes you to the suspicions of the
vulgar, which are too apt to break out into actions of brutality. Let
me think I have mended the lot of one human being! Accept of such