Olive Peyton would never forget the unpleasant notoriety of that night,
when Love Ellsworth had so coolly exposed her identity, though she
carried it off with a high hand, by explaining that the gypsy woman had
been called away by her husband's illness, and she had taken her place
for the fun of the thing, and to keep the church from losing the money
it was to have gained by the fortune-telling. Of course, she knew as
much of the future as any lying old gypsy woman; so she did not consider
that there was any harm done, as she had also earned several dollars for
the church. She had given a few of them bad fortunes, just to see if
they would really believe such stuff, meaning to tease them over their
credulity to-morrow, when she intended to declare her identity as the
gypsy.

No one ventured to dissent from Olive's declaration, that no harm had
been done by her personation of the gypsy; for no one suspected the real
truth, which was, that she had actually bribed the gypsy to give her
her place, hoping thus to work on the feelings of Dainty and her lover.

But baffled and detected in her wicked scheme, she carried it off coolly
as a joke, declaring that no harm had been done.

No one took issue with her except an old physician, who was known to
have the courage of his own opinion so strongly that he was even
ungallant enough to contradict a lady if he believed that she was in the
wrong.

So when she asserted that no harm had been done, old Doctor Platt
rumpled up his bushy-gray eyebrows severely at her, and snorted:

"I beg leave to differ with you, miss."

Olive turned on the bold doctor with an imperious frown; but he was not
in the least abashed.

He continued, testily:

"I give it as my professional opinion, without charge, that the dreadful
prediction you made to that timid, nervous girl, Miss Chase, would have
preyed so deeply on her sensitive mind as to cause her premature death,
had not the cruel joke been discovered in time to allay her fears."

"Nonsense!" Olive answered, sharply, turning her back on him in anger.
But she knew in her heart that she had counted on just what the old
doctor said, and hoped, indeed, in her cruel jealousy, to frighten poor
Dainty into an early grave.

She hated Love Ellsworth for thwarting her plans--hated and loved him,
in a breath; for his splendid, manly beauty had made an ineffaceable
impression on her heart. All his indifference did not chill the fire of
her passion