er did. She used to beg to be
allowed to study her Dream Book, and every evening before bedtime would
go into the kitchen and--sitting amid that wild disorder that is
necessary to Elizabeth before she can really feel at home--'look up'
her dream of the previous night.

Try as she would, the poor child never seemed to have the sort of
vision that, in the words of the book, had 'excellent portent.' 'I
don't get the nice things,' I once heard her remark, 'like white
horses, you know, which, it says, portend honours, riches and rare
gifts. Did you ever dream of white horses, Elizabeth?'

'That I did--wunst.'

'And did you get the honours, and all those things, Elizabeth?'

'Well, I got the rare gifts in a manner o' speaking. My gran'mother
died a month later an' left me a pair o' jet earrings and a jet
bracelet to match--one o' them stretchin' ones, on elastic, you know.'

That incident established Elizabeth in The Kid's estimation as a
prophet. Old Moore himself couldn't have done better.

I did not pay much attention to these things; and it was not until
Elizabeth had been with me for some time that I discovered her intense
fatalism. She ordered her life by Signs, in fact. You or I might drop
a tablespoon on the floor and think nothing of it, but she would tell
you at once it was a Sign that a tall dark lady was coming to the
house. If a knife fell you would hear her mutter '_That's_ a man.'
According to Elizabeth, success in life is in no wise due to personal
effort--it all depends on whether you are 'born lucky.'

Unfortunately Elizabeth was 'born unlucky'--unfortunately for me as
well as her. Destiny, having now woven my life with hers, it made me
unlucky, too. For example, she would come to me and announce, 'I've
been unlucky an' broke the teapot this mornin'. That means I'll break
another two things afore the week's out. It always goes in threes.'

'Then hadn't you better smash something that is of no value at once,'
was my obvious suggestion, 'and get it over?'

But Elizabeth, entrenched in her convictions, would shake her head.
'That's no good. I've tried that afore an' it didn't work. You see,
it 'as to be done unexpected to break the spell.' So the spell had to
be broken also. Clearly, human intervention was no good at all. Fate
was against both of us.

There is something positively uncanny in the way misfortune lies in
wait for that girl. You would think that after causing her to bre