"Mrs. Seymour" was the assumed name of the wife--her advertising _sobriquet_--a name well chosen, since, unlike her real name, it did not suggest her Irish origin, and therefore forbid Irish servant girls from visiting her, and leaving with her a dollar or two dollars a time for advice on the subject of their lovers, marriages, or a "new place" to work. The Irish in this country, at least, have no respect for sorcerers of Irish birth. The name, too, sounds not unaristocratic; something substantial about it; has not the appearance of being assumed, like those of "Madame Leclerque," "Madame Duponleau," and other high-sounding aliases of some fat, dumpy English or Welsh woman, or some dark weazen-faced Polish hag, whose real name is perhaps Johnson, Jones, or Thomascowitch. "Mrs. Seymour" was a middle-sized woman, not ugly of features, not handsome, with a sort of mobile face, which could easily assume any expression which her subtle, crafty mind might suggest. Her house was a decent abode, pretty well furnished; and, in this respect, far above the character of the houses which most "mediums" and fortune-tellers inhabit, presenting a cosy, inviting appearance in the parlor. Mr. Brady, a man of wholesome face and good address, was usually at home to aid in entertaining visitors, especially ladies, who called upon "Mrs. Seymour" professionally. To "Mrs. Seymour" went the aunt and Mary, and at first had a "sitting" with her, in order to test her capacity at fortune-telling. On entering the house, they had first encountered the shrewd Mr. Brady, who probably at once suspected that the younger woman was revolving matrimonial matters in her mind, and having opportunity to speak with his wife in private before she entered the room, told her, probably, his suspicions. At all events, Mrs. Seymour had hardly sitten down, and thrown herself into her accustomed trance, before she told Mary that she had come there upon a question of marriage, and that there were troubles in the way, and invited her to free her mind. The simple-hearted Mary and the credulous aunt were taken aback at once by Mrs. Seymour's sudden approach to the very subject on their minds, and the aunt exclaimed, "There, Mary, I told you so!"