“Oh, no, not yet--” he began; but just at that moment a shabbily dressed old woman pushed him aside and came up in front of Aline. She had a basket of cheap laces on her arm, which she paraded ostentatiously. “Will the leddies buy some of my pretty things--collerettes, _jabots_, cuffs, scarfs--de finest things in lace,” whimpered she. Mrs. Rodney shook her head with a smile. “We want nothing at all, my good woman,” said she. “Let me tell the young lady’s fortune, then. I am a fortune-teller, and I tell de truest fortunes you ever heard. I have told a many for the young gents and leddies this morning. They say every word is true. This is the sweetest face I have seen yet. Let me tell her what is past and what will be,” cried the old crone, loquaciously. “No, no, go away! We do not wish to hear anything!” said Mrs. Rodney, impatiently. But Aline turned her blue eyes wistfully upon her mother’s face. “Oh, mamma, I should like it so much,” she said, pleadingly. “Like _what_, my dear?” inquired Mrs. Rodney, uncomprehendingly. “To have this good woman read my past and future,” Aline answered, with a blush. “But, my dear, she cannot possibly know anything of the kind. Fortune-tellers are all frauds. They only guess at things,” said Mrs. Rodney. “I should like to hear what she has to say,” insisted Aline, willfully. “Oh, very well, my dear, just as you please, but you will only hear a pack of stories,” Mrs. Rodney replied; but she crossed the old fortune-teller’s coarse palm with the traditional silver piece, and Aline drew the warm glove from her delicate hand expectantly. The old lace-vender set her basket down on the ground and took the little hand into her own large and brown one. “What is this I see?” she said, squinting her gray eyes at the rosy palm. “The line of life is crossed with sorrows. You have had a great trouble in your life. You are very unhappy, and you are doomed to be even more unhappy--” “Do not tell her such jargon,” broke in Mrs. Rodney, impatiently. “I but read what I see, madam,” said the seer. “And I see nothing but blight and sorrow. I cannot understand it, for I see no love in her past--none of that love that makes or mars a woman’s life. The shadows come from other things, from other influences. And yet--” she paused and looked searchingly into Aline’s marble-white face. “And yet--” repeated the girl in a tone of eager inquiry. The fortune-teller went on without removing her keen gaze from Aline’s wistful face: “And yet, although you have never loved, there is a man mixed up in your past and future strangely. He is dark and grand and handsome, but he has cast a shadow on your life, a thick, dark shadow so dense you cannot see beyond it. You blush, yet the man is nothing to you. I cannot understand it.” It was true that Aline was blushing hotly, and she was gazing in wonder at the strange old woman.