She arose and walked out of the room, closing the door. I could catch her tones through the wall, and she returned in less than a minute. There was something startling, almost to appall, in the countenance of the companion she ushered, coming close behind her. I can say that that countenance was all eye,--a vivid and burning intelligence concentred in orbs whose darkness was really light, flashing from thence over every feature. Thoné was neither a gaunt nor a great woman, though tall; her hands were beautifully small and slender, and though she was as brunette as her eye was dark, she was clear as that darkness was itself light. The white cap she wore contrasted strangely with that rich hue, like sun-gilt bronze. She was old, but modelled like a statue, and her lips were keen, severe, and something scornful. It was amazing to me to see how easily Miss Benette looked and worked before this prodigy; I was speechless. Thoné took my hand in hers, and feeling I trembled, she said some quick words to Clara in a species of Low German, whose accent I could not understand, and Clara replied in the same. I would have withdrawn my hand, for I was beginning to fear something dreadful in the way of an oracle, but Thoné led me with irrepressible authority to the window. Once there, she fastened upon me an almost feeling glance, and having scanned me a while, drew out all my fingers one by one with a pressure that cracked every sinew of my hand and arm. At last she looked into my palm, but made no muttering, and did not appear trying to make out anything but the streaks and texture of the skin. It could not have been ten minutes that had passed when she let fall my hand, and addressing Clara in a curt, still manner, without smile or comment, uttered in a voice whose echoes haunt me still,--for the words were rare as music,--"Tonkunst und Arzenei."[10] I knew enough of German to interpret these, at all events, and as I stood they passed into my being by conviction, they being indeed truth. Clara approached me. "Are you satisfied? Music _is_ medicine, though, I think; do not you?" She smiled with sweet mischief. "Oh, Miss Benette, thank you a thousand times! for whether it is to be true or not, I think it is a very good fortune to be told. Has she told you yours?" "Yes, often; at least as much as she told you about yourself, she has revealed to me." "Can she tell all people their fortunes?" "I will ask her." She turned to our bright Fate and spoke. On receiving a short, low reply, as Thoné left the room, she again addressed me. "She says, 'I cannot prophesy for the pure English, if there be any, because the letters of their characters are not distinct. All I know in all, is how much there is of ours in each.'" "I don't know what she means." "No more do I." "Oh, Miss Benette, you do!" For her arch smile fluttered over her lips.