'Your Grace is quite right,' said Mr. Podgers, glancing at the
little fat hand with its short square fingers, 'the mountain of the
moon is not developed. The line of life, however, is excellent.
Kindly bend the wrist. Thank you. Three distinct lines on the
rascette! You will live to a great age, Duchess, and be extremely
happy. Ambition--very moderate, line of intellect not exaggerated,
line of heart--'

'Now, do be indiscreet, Mr. Podgers,' cried Lady Windermere.

'Nothing would give me greater pleasure,' said Mr. Podgers, bowing,
'if the Duchess ever had been, but I am sorry to say that I see
great permanence of affection, combined with a strong sense of
duty.'

'Pray go on, Mr. Podgers,' said the Duchess, looking quite pleased.

'Economy is not the least of your Grace's virtues,' continued Mr.
Podgers, and Lady Windermere went off into fits of laughter.

'Economy is a very good thing,' remarked the Duchess complacently;
'when I married Paisley he had eleven castles, and not a single
house fit to live in.'

'And now he has twelve houses, and not a single castle,' cried Lady
Windermere.

'Well, my dear,' said the Duchess, 'I like--'