. "Let me look at your palm,
pretty lady."

"Am I to cross it with silver first?"

"Thank you kindly! But must I tell you the truth, lady?"

"Why yes, mother. Why not?"

"Then you're going to lose money to-day, lady; but never mind, you shall
be fortunate in the end, and the one you love shall be yours."

"That's all right," cried the gentlemen in chorus. The ladies tittered,
and Glory turned to Drake and said, "A pair of gloves against Ellan
Vannin."

"Done," said Drake, and there was general laughter.

The gipsy still held Glory's hand, and looking up at Drake out of the
corner of her eyes, she said: "I won't tell you what colour he is, pretty
lady, but he is young and tall, and, though he is a gorgio, he is the
kind a Romany girl would die for. Much trouble you'll have with him, and
because of his foolishness and your own unkindness you'll put seven score
miles between you. You like to live your life, lady, and as men drown
their sorrows in drink, so do you drown yours in pleasure. But it will
all come right at last, lady, and those who envy and hate you now will
kiss the ground you walk on."

"Glo," said Betty, "I'm surprised at ye, dearest, listenin' to such
clipperty clapper."

Glory did not recover her composure after this incident until they came
near the Downs. Meantime the grooms had blown their horns at many
villages hidden in the verdure of charming hollows, and the coaches had
overtaken the people who had left London earlier in the day to make the
journey afoot. Boy tramps, looking tired already--"Wish ye luck,
gentlemen"; fat sailors and mutilated colliers playing organs--'Twas in
Trafalgar Bay, and Come Whoam to thee Childer and Me; tatterdemalions
selling the C'rect Card-"on'y fourpence, and I've slep' out on the Downs
last night, s'elp me"--and all the ragged army of the maimed and the
miserable who hang on the edge of a carnival.

Among this wreckage, as they skimmed over it on the coach, there was one
figure more grotesque than the rest, a Polish Jew in his long kaftan and
his worn Sabbath hat, going along alone, triddle-traddle, in his slippers
without heels. Lord Robert was at the moment teasing Betty into a pet by
christening her "The Elephant," in allusion to her stoutness. But
somebody called his attention to the Jew, and he screwed his glass to his
eye and cried, "Father Storm, by Jove!"

The nickname was taken up by other people on the coach, and also by
people on other coaches, a