They had dinner in Mrs. Gower’s parlor, and a telegram was brought in to her during the dessert. “Oh, I am very glad,” said she, as she laid it down. “It is from Mr. Haviland; and he says he can join us to-morrow.” Arthur looked at her, and then at Derwent; but that gentleman made no sign; only, Lord Birmingham looked disgusted. The others expressed a polite gratification, and then the question came up what they were to do in the evening. Already a great intimacy had sprung up among the party, and a certain feeling of youth, born of much outdoor air and freedom from care. Some proposed ghost-stories, others, games. “I bar kissing games,” said Pussie Duval, with much aplomb, “in the absence of Mr. De Witt.” Kisses were debarred, being, as Van Kull expressed it, too serious things to be made game of; but forfeits, twenty questions, even dancing, was indulged in. When all these failed to satisfy their souls, it was rumored that Mr. Derwent was “up” in palmistry. “Oh, do tell us our fortunes!” was the cry. “We must have a regular gypsy tent.” “Now,” said Mrs. Hay, “it’s no fun unless we all tell. Agree all of you to tell us what he says!” “Girls, girls” (the women of Mrs. Gower’s set had a way of still addressing each other joyously as “girls”)--“suppose he reveals the secrets of your hearts?” “’Pon my soul!” cried Mrs. Hay, “I’ve quite forgotten what they are! Who’ll go in first?” A shawl had been hung across an open door, behind which Derwent took up his position. No one seemed anxious to make the first try; and at last the voice of the company fell upon Arthur Holyoke, “as having,” said Mrs. Gower, “the most future before him.” Arthur went in and came out laughing. “I have had,” said he, “a very terrible horoscope, as Derwent says. Everything that I really wish for is to happen to me!” “I don’t see what there is so very terrible about that,” said they all; and the others were emboldened. Mrs. Gower went in next. “Speak aloud, Mr. Derwent,” cried Mrs. Hay, “so we all can hear--we can’t trust the garbled statements of the culprits.” Derwent’s voice was heard, in sepulchral tones, from behind the screen. “I see the hand of a woman who has done whatever she has meant to do----” (“Dear me,” interjected Mrs. Hay, “how successful we all are!”) “She may come near doing more than she meant to do; but her will shall conquer everything.” “How delightfully enigmatic!” laughed Pussie Duval. “You must go in next, Miss Pussie--you spoke,” said Van Kull. But Pussie wouldn’t; and the choice fell upon Kitty Farnum. She disappeared, and there was several moments’ silence. At last-- “Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen, Die hat einen Andern erwählt; Der Andre liebt eine Andre Und hat sich mit Dieser vermählt. “Das Mädchen heiratet aus Ärger Den ersten besten Mann, Der ihr in den Weg gelaufen; Der Jüngling ist übel dran.