So it was with Drusilla now. She dropped a silver crown in the gipsy’s hand, and then, half in faith and half in scorn of that misplaced faith, she held out her palm. The gipsy glanced slightly at the palm, but gazed earnestly in the face of the young matron. “My lady, you have been a wife and you are a mother, you have had trouble—long trouble for so short a life, and a great trouble for so gentle a lady; but it is gone now, and it will never come back any more.” “Thank Heaven for that,” murmured Drusilla. “But you are not satisfied yet. There is something wanted, my lady. You have a hungry, hungry heart, and a begging eye. You are longing and famishing for something, my lady, and you will get it; for the hungry heart is a mighty heart, and must prevail; and the begging eye is a conquering eye that will overcome. Sweet, my lady, grief has gone away, never to come back to you; and joy will soon come, never to leave you.” “Oh, if I were sure that were true. If I could only believe that!” exclaimed Drusilla, earnestly. “You may believe it, my lady. You will soon see it.” “How do you know it?” “By my art,” answered the gipsy. And then she turned to General Lyon and said, coaxingly: “Ah! kind, handsome gentleman, you will cross the poor gipsy’s hand with a little silver to help her, poor thing, and she will tell you such a good fortune!” “My fortune is all told these many years past, good woman,” said the General, with a sigh that did not escape the gipsy’s keen eyes. “Ah! don’t say so, good, dear gentleman. You have many long and happy years of life to live yet.” “I am an old man, gipsy; I have lived out my life.” “Ah no, noble gentleman, not so. You are in your prime. Ah me! with your grand form and handsome face, you could make many a sweet, pretty lady’s heart ache yet if you chose; yes, that you could.” “Come, come, my good woman, that is going a little too far,” laughed the General, not displeased. What old gentleman ever is with a little flattery? “It is going a _great deal_ too far, grandpa. Come now, don’t let her be putting courtship and matrimony into your head. I won’t have any young grandmamma set up at Old Lyon Hall to lord it over me,” laughed Anna. “Nonsense, my girl! The only way in which I may ever make any lady’s heart ache, will be by getting the gout, and growing cross over it, and growling at you and Drusilla from morning until night,” said the General. At that moment a policeman stepped up and put his hand on the gipsy’s shoulder, saying: “Come, Gentilly, I have had my eye on you this half hour. Move on.”