"Why the Sybil told me that I should survive this injury, whatever it was; but she declined being more explicit. She also said that I should be very happy by and bye, perhaps she meant in Heaven. I hope so. But I gave her another crown and wished her good day." "Ah!" said Aveline, "my gipsy was more explicit." "Where did you pick up yours?" "Here, on the sea-shore." "And what news did she give you for your money?" "She told me--shall I repeat it?" "Yes, do; that I may laugh you out of it?" "She told me I should break the heart of the person I loved best; and that I should die young." "She was an idiot!" said Mr. Haveloc. "Ah! my mother. Shall I not break her heart," said Aveline, with a sudden burst of tears. "Never; you are in ill-health, and attach a meaning to words you would laugh at, if you were stronger. I do believe the worst suffering in illness is the dejection it causes. You should not allow yourself to be so weighed down." "But if I die--" "But do not think so. The woman saw you looked delicate, and thought she could turn her warning to a good account. I wish I--" Aveline seized his hand. A gipsy woman was advancing towards them from the other end of the terrace. He was at a loss what to do; he feared to leave Aveline for a single moment, lest she should faint; and still more he feared to let the woman come within speaking distance. "Have no fears for me. She can say nothing that I do not know," said Aveline. "Will you have your fortune told, my pretty lady and gentleman," said the woman advancing with the insinuating gestures of her tribe. "No, there's money for you," said Mr. Haveloc, throwing the woman his purse heavy with gold, "there is more than you could earn. Go now, quickly, the lady is ill." "Would she like," said the gipsy. "No, I tell you. Go at once. You have no business here!" The gipsy made a sign in the air with her hand which filled him with horror; it seemed to him as if she traced the outline of a coffin:--then laughed, turned, and vanished. "It is the same," said Aveline, trembling. "It is the gipsy of the Campagna," he said at the same moment. "What do you think of it?" said Aveline as he helped her to dismount, and supported her to the sofa. "Is it not as if she came to watch the fulfilment of her prediction?" "On the contrary. She came knowing it was easier to frighten than to beg money out of people," said he taking a chair beside her. "But your man ought to keep better watch." "It is not his fault. Remember the terrace is open at one end; but the cliff is so rugged that we always consider it safe. Here comes mamma--let us tell her of it." Aveline seemed more cheerful again. The supper-table was drawn to the sofa. She related the appearance of the gipsy in a laughing manner, and tried to make it appear that Mr. Haveloc had been very much frightened. "Confess," said Aveline, "that she put you into bodily fear."