The palmist smiled sympathetically, and said, "He has no other thought but you. Believe me, you are his one object, and he will be true to you through life." "And how on earth can you see that?" said Felicity, unreasonably cheered, though inclined to laugh. "I can't say. It's not possible to explain these things; but here, you see, your Fate line is a wonderfully good one, and it goes parallel (if I may say so) with the heart line. Now, if the _Life_ line had crossed it, or reached the Mount of Luna--well, I should have said you were destined to disappointment in love. But that is not so. You have a lucky hand. You have artistic tastes, but would never work in any direction, except the social--that is why I say a diplomatic circle would have suited you." Felicity feared the soothsayer was getting rather bored with her, so she said-- "Thank you. Have you any advice to give me before I go?" "Yes. It would be to your advantage if you used your head less and followed your natural impulses more." "Then I must throw something at Chetwode's head when I see him," thought Felicity. As she got up, "I see two beautiful children in your hand," added the palmist. "Oh, when?" said Felicity, starting, and accidentally knocking down the crystal ball. "Within the next few years," answered the palmist cautiously. * * * * * "Now it's my turn," said Bertie, as Felicity joined them. "Do tell me," he said in an undertone, "was there anything about me in your hand?" "Rather not--not a trace of you. Why, what did you expect?" "Oh, then I don't think much of her. I thought at least she would see my initials all over your lifeline. I assure you, any good palmist would. I'm afraid she's a fraud." "I trust not. She was rather consoling," said Felicity thoughtfully. "She was wonderful with me," said Vera, as Bertie disappeared. "I wonder what her nationality really is." "Thought you said she was a Highlander." Bob looked more puzzled than ever. "Well, so she is, partly. In a way. Unless I'm mixing her up with some one else." "And yet Zero isn't a Scotch name," remarked Felicity thoughtfully. "No; and it's a rotten name too--doesn't suit her a bit. But it's not her real name. On her card is Miss Cora G. Donovan," said Bob. "How do you know?" asked Vera sharply. "Well, I had to ask her address. I've got to see her again, don't you know. Before the Derby. To make sure. Only fair to give it a chance," said Bob, rather apologetically. "She's an Irish American," decided Felicity. "Is she? I dare say she is. I wonder what she'll say to Wilton now," said Bob meditatively.