It came upon me with a rush. That drizzling Good Friday afternoon at Miss Deveen's, long ago, and Helen smuggling up the old lady from downstairs to tell her fortune. But what brought her here? There seemed to be no connection between Miss Deveen's house in town and Briar Wood in Worcestershire. I could not have been more at sea had I seen a Chinese lady from Pekin. Miss Deveen laughed. "And yet it is so easy of explanation, Johnny, so simple and straightforward," she said. "Mrs. Ness chances to be aunt to Rednal's wife, and she is staying down here with them." Simple it was--as are most other puzzles when you have the clue. The old woman was a great protégée of Miss Deveen's, who had known her through her life of misfortune: but Miss Deveen did not before know of her relationship to Rednal's wife or that she was staying at their cottage. They had been talking of that past afternoon and the fortune-telling in it, when I and Bill came up. "And what I told you, miss, came true--now didn't it?" cried Mrs. Ness to Helen. "True! Why, you told me _nothing_!" retorted Helen. "There was nothing in the fortune. You said there was nothing in the cards." "I remember it," said Mother Ness; "remember it well. The cards showed no husband for you then, young lady; they might tell different now. But they showed some trouble about it, I recollect." Helen's face fell. There had indeed been trouble. Trouble again and again. Richard Foliott, the false, had brought trouble to her; and so had Charles Leafchild, now lying in his grave at Worcester: not to speak of poor Slingsby Temple. Helen had got over all those crosses now, and was looking up again. She was of a nature to look up again from any evil that might befall her, short of losing her head off her shoulders. All dinner-time she had been flirting with Featherston's nephew. This suggestion of Mrs. Ness, "the cards might tell different now," caught hold of her mind. Her colour slightly deepened, her eyes sparkled. "Have you the cards with you now, Mrs. Ness?" "Ay, to be sure, young lady. I never come away from home without my cards. They be in the cottage yonder." "Then I should like my fortune told again." "Oh, Helen, how can you be so silly!" cried Lady Whitney. "Silly! Why, mamma, it is good fun. You go and fetch the cards, Mrs. Ness." "I and Johnny nearly had our fortune told to-day," put in Bill, while Mrs. Ness stood where she was, hardly knowing what to be at. "We came upon a young gipsy woman in the wood, and she wanted to promise us a wife apiece. A little girl was with her that may have been stolen: she was too fair to be that brown woman's child." "It must have been the Norths," exclaimed Mrs. Ness. "Was there some tinware by 'em, sir; and some rabbit skins?" "Yes. Both. The rabbit skins were hanging out to dry." "Ay, it's the Norths," repeated Mrs. Ness. "Rednal said he saw North yesterday; he guessed they'd lighted their campfire not far off." "Who are the Norths? Gipsies?"