One of the most celebrated of successful fortune tellers of recent times was perhaps Lucy Lee, who pursued her profession for something over twenty-six years. Her business headquarters were at The Devil’s Dyke, near Brighton. She did not, however, reside there permanently, but—latterly at least—journeyed to and from Brighton daily in a small carriage. She probably amassed a considerable sum of money, for in addition to the numerous people of rank and note she could count among her clientèle, Devil’s Dyke had annually its thousands of visitors, of whom a goodly proportion doubtless left silver in the hand of the soothsayer—in the orthodox manner. Of her oracular pronouncements I have no personal knowledge. If I recollect aright, she was wearing, on the last occasion of my seeing her, a cloak of brilliant red edged with white, a black silk or satin dress, a white apron, and upon her head a red handkerchief. She maintained that past events in one’s life as well as the future are mapped out on the hand; she told fortunes also by means of cards. Gypsies are very keen observers, and those fortune tellers among them who pretend to something beyond pure guesswork, undoubtedly find the searching examination of a face quite as suggestive as a study of the hand; moreover, they do not omit to gaze intently into the tell-tale eyes of the person seeking information and are consequently able to make certain deductions upon which to base their shrewd guesses, and as these may be delivered in ambiguous terms they are frequently near enough to the facts to impress or satisfy the applicant. Gypsies have ever been prone to make capital out of the artlessness, culpable weaknesses, and avarice of a section of mankind. [Illustration: “Adroit the line of palmistry to trace.” LEYDEN.]