"Spare me, Olivia!--I scarce know what I say--and do not be angry."

She drew her hands coldly and haughtily away from his grasp. She was a
thoroughly proud woman, and his secrecy stung her.

"I am not angry, Sir Jasper. Keep your secret, if you will. I was
foolish enough to fancy I had right to know of any danger that menaces
my baby, but it appears I was mistaken. In half an hour the carriages
will start for the church. You will find us all in the nursery."

She was sweeping proudly away in silent anger, but the baronet strode
after her and caught her arm.

"You will know this!" he said, huskily. "Olivia, Olivia! you are cruel
to yourself and to me, but you shall hear--part, at least. I warn you,
however, you will be no happier for knowing."

"Go on," she said, steadily.

He turned from her, walked to the window, and kept his back to her
while he spoke.

"You have no faith in fortune-tellers, clairvoyants, astrologers, and
the like, have you, Olivia?"

"Most certainly not!"

"Then what I have to say will scarcely trouble you as it troubles
me--for I believe; and the prediction of an astrologer has ruined my