rsuade her to go away, my lady," said the footman; "nor
can any of the servants: Mrs. Fairfax is with her just now, entreating
her to be gone; but she has taken a chair in the chimney-corner, and says
nothing shall stir her from it till she gets leave to come in here."

"What does she want?" asked Mrs. Eshton.

"'To tell the gentry their fortunes,' she says, ma'am; and she swears she
must and will do it."

"What is she like?" inquired the Misses Eshton, in a breath.

"A shockingly ugly old creature, miss; almost as black as a crock."

"Why, she's a real sorceress!" cried Frederick Lynn. "Let us have her
in, of course."

"To be sure," rejoined his brother; "it would be a thousand pities to
throw away such a chance of fun."

"My dear boys, what are you thinking about?" exclaimed Mrs. Lynn.

"I cannot possibly countenance any such inconsistent proceeding," chimed
in the Dowager Ingram.

"Indeed, mama, but you can--and will," pronounced the haughty voice of
Blanche, as she turned round on the piano-stool; where till now she had
sat silent, apparently examining sundry sheets of music. "I have a
curiosity to hear my fortune told: therefore, Sam, order the beldame
forward."

"My darling Blanche! recollect--"

"I do--I recollect all you can suggest; and I must have my will--quick,
Sam!"

"Yes--yes--yes!" cried all the juveniles, both ladies and gentlemen. "Let
her come--it will be excellent sport!"

The footman still lingered. "She looks such a rough one," said he.

"Go!" ejaculated Miss Ingram, and the man went.

Excitement instantly seized the whole party: a running fire of raillery
and jests was proceeding when Sam returned.

"She won't come now," said he. "She says it's not her mission to appear
before the 'vulgar herd' (them's her words). I must show her into a room
by herself, and then those who wish to consult her must go to her one by
one."

"You see now, my queenly Blanche," began Lady Ingram, "she encroaches. Be
advised, my angel girl--and--"

"Show her into the library, of course," cut in the "angel girl." "It is
not my mission to listen to her before the vulgar herd either: I mean to
have her all to myself. Is there a fire in the library?"

"Yes, ma'am--but she looks such a tinkler."

"Cease that chatter, blockhead! and do my bidding."

Again Sam vanished; and mystery, animation, expectation rose to full flow
once more.

"She's ready now," said the footman, as he reappeared. "Sh