"You can do that too?" exclaimed Doña Clara. "By the life of my lord the lieutenant, you must tell me mine, niña of gold, niña of silver, niña of pearls, niña of carbuncles, niña of heaven, and more than that cannot be said." "Give the niña the palm of your hand, señora, and something to cross it with," said the old gipsy; "and you will see what things she will tell you, for she knows more than a doctor of medicine." The señora Tenienta[69] put her hand in her pocket, but found it empty; she asked for the loan of a quarto from her maids, but none of them had one, neither had the señora her neighbour. Preciosa seeing this, said, "For the matter of crosses all are good, but those made with silver or gold are best. As for making the sign of the cross with copper money, that, ladies, you must know lessens the luck, at least it does mine. I always like to begin by crossing the palm with a good gold crown, or a piece of eight, or at least a quarto, for, I am like the sacristans who rejoice when there is a good collection." [69] The wife of the _teniente_, or lieutenant. " and you ask for two-and-twenty maravedis? Go your ways, Contreras, for a tiresome blockhead, as you always were." "How witty you are," said the lady visitor; then turning to the squire, "Do you happen to have a quarto about you, Señor Contreras? if you have, give it me, and when my husband the doctor comes you shall have it again." "I have one," replied Contreras, "but it is pledged for two-and-twenty maravedis for my supper; give me so much and I will fly to fetch it." "We have not a quarto amongst us all," said Doña Clara, "and you ask for two-and-twenty maravedis? Go your ways, Contreras, for a tiresome blockhead, as you always were." One of the damsels present, seeing the penury of the house, said to Preciosa, "Niña, will it be of any use to make the cross with a silver thimble?" "Certainly," said Preciosa; "the best crosses in the world are made with silver thimbles, provided there are plenty of them." "I have one," said the doncella; "if that is enough, here it is, on condition that my fortune be told too." "So many fortunes to be told for a thimble!" exclaimed the old gipsy. "Make haste, granddaughter, for it will soon be night." Preciosa took the thimble, and began her sooth saying. Pretty lady, pretty lady, With a hand as silver fair, How thy husband dearly loves thee 'Tis superfluous to declare. Thou'rt a dove, all milk of kindness; Yet at times too thou canst be Wrathful as a tiger, or a Lioness of Barbary. Thou canst show thy teeth when jealous; Truly the lieutenant's sly; Loves with furtive sports to vary Magisterial gravity. What a pity! One worth having Woo'd thee when a maiden fair. Plague upon all interlopers! You'd have made a charming pair.