Sir Lester was amused. He noticed all these traits and knew the little girl he so fondly loved had developed into a very beautiful woman. He had watched her grow year by year, and hungrily begrudged the advancing age which must make her less reliant upon him. Man-like, he wanted her to be solely dependent upon him, and yet now the time was come, when she was a woman, he loved her better than ever. What a prize she would prove to Jack Redland; he thought of no other man in connection with her: the mere idea seemed desecration. Had he been glad when Jack went away? He doubted it. Relief was the feeling he experienced. And he would again feel it on his return. Roaming about the country lanes one day, Winifred chanced to linger on the spot where she had last seen Jack turn and wave his farewell. Was it a chance she came there? She tried to convince herself such was the case, but it proved a failure, for she knew she had deliberately walked in that direction. Was it by chance that the self-same gypsy woman came along at the time and saw her? Probably it was, for she seldom wandered that way. The woman hesitated, and then approached. She knew it was Winifred Dyke, and was aware that Sir Lester disliked liked her and all her tribe. She had not forgotten the handsome young man she had met not far away some year or two before, and something told her there was a connecting link between them. They are wonderfully shrewd, the women of her class, and have a marvellous way of putting things together and weaving elegant and generally acceptable little romances therefrom. Winifred started when she saw her, and at once it flashed across her mind that this might be the same woman Jack had told her about. The thought interested her strangely. If this were the woman then she had much to do with Jack's going away, ridiculous though it appeared. "May I look at your hand?" said the gypsy, as though it was the most natural request in the world. Winifred smiled as she held it out and said-- "If it will give you any satisfaction." "It is not for my satisfaction, but for your own." She examined her hand closely, it was beautiful, well shaped, and daintily pink. "You have had trouble." Winifred started; then she thought, "She knows who I am, and that my father has been ill; how absurd of me." "You are happy again. There will be no more clouds. There is someone coming from across the seas. He is a good man and generous. Strange, very strange!" "What is strange?" asked Winifred. "There is much money coming to you. See, look at that mark." There was a tiny line on her hand, and as Winifred looked at it the mark seemed to grow larger. "There is great wealth, it increases. Look, the line is quite clear now," said the gypsy excitedly. "It has become clearer because I extended my hand," said Winifred, interested in spite of herself. "That is not the cause. Only once before have I seen this sign in a woman's hand, and she became a great lady."