that they had come to "The Manor" for that especial purpose, so it was
useless to ask them, or any one of them, to go on a fortune-telling
expedition when they could find anything of that sort in Bond Street.
"And it's all a lot of rot, anyhow," declared one sporting youth with
obviously more muscle and money than brains; "no one can tell my
fortune."

"I can, Billy. You will be Prime Minister," flashed out Miss Greeby, at
which there was a general laugh. Then Garvington threw a bombshell.

"You'd better get your fortunes told to-day, if you want to," he
grunted, wiping his mustache; "for to-morrow I'm going to have these
rotters moved off my land straight away. They're thieves and liars."

"So are many other people," snapped Miss Greeby, who had lost heavily at
bridge on the previous night and spoke feelingly.

Her host paid no attention to her. "There's been a lot of burglaries in
this neighborhood of late. I daresay these gypsies are mixed up in
them."

"Burglaries!" cried Mrs. Belgrove, and turned pale under her rouge, as
she remembered that she had her diamonds with her.

"Oh, it's all right! Don't worry," said Garvington, pushing back his
chair. "They won't try on any games in this house while I'm here. If any
one tries to get in I'll shoot the beast."

"Is that allowed by law?" asked an army officer with a shrug.