The lef han, dearie, an gowld for th charm. Aye! a bewtiful han for a bewtiful maid. I udnt rade false for--eh, dear life, what ist? Th lines goo criss an crass. Duvel! I be mortal feared to tell ee. Take tha han. Gran hes nought to spake for sich a mayden. As she said the last word, a startled look came into the glazed eyes of the old gipsy; and with a quick gesture she flung back the hand she had been holding. The pretty, fair-haired girl who was having her fortune told laughed nervously, and shot an anxious glance at the young man who stood near her. He was tall and dark and masterful; also he was in love with the girl, as could be seen from the tenderness in his eyes and the smile on his lips. But as the sibyl spoke, as the girl started, he changed the smile to a frown, and caught the woman roughly by the arm. She was on the point of hobbling away; but, on feeling the mans grip, she turned doggedly to face him. With her rags and wrinkles, red cloak, and Oriental countenance, she looked like the Witch of Endor--at bay. Not so fast, gran! said the young man, severely. Miss Lester has given you a shilling, so you must earn it by telling her fortune--if you can, he added, in a scoffing tone, which savoured of scepticism. Ef I can! repeated gran, looking contemptuously from under bushy gray eyebrows. Eh, young gentlman, that han be asy raidin tu I. But fur all this, she waved her stick round the gorse-besprinkled common upon which they were standing--for all that--she pointed towards the blue arch of the July sky--I wuldnt freeze th blood o this gude maid. How you do go on, Mother Jimboy! giggled the girl, with an affectation of carelessness. I dont believe a bit in hand-reading; Im sure I dont, so there! I know my own fortune well. Dont I, Mr. Lovel? and again she shot a glance at the young man--this time a coquettish one...