e was the Lord," said a friend, in a drawling accent "He
looks as if he 'd 'mow us all down like grass.'"

Dr. Lanfranchi, the director of the establishment, here interposed, and,
by a few words, induced the Americans to retire and leave the others
unmolested.

"Thank you, doctor," said Lady Lackington, in acknowledgment; "your tact
is always considerate,--always prompt."

"These things never happen in the season, my Lady," said he, with a very
slight foreign accentuation of the words. "It is only at times like this
that people--very excellent and amiable people, doubtless--"

"Oh, to be sure they are," interrupted she, impatiently; "but let us
speak of something else. Is that your clairvoyant Princess yonder?"

"Yes, my Lady; she has just revealed to us what was doing at the Crimea.
She says that two of the English advanced batteries have slackened their
fire for want of ammunition, and that a deserter was telling Todleben of
the reason at the moment She is _en rapport_ with her sister, who is now
at Sebastopol."

"And are we to be supposed to credit this?" asked my Lord.

"I can only aver that I believe it, my Lord," said Lanfranchi,
whose massive head and intensely acute features denoted very little
intellectual weakness.

"I wish you 'd ask her why are we lingering so long in this dreary
place?" sighed Lady Lackington, peevishly.

"She answered that question yesterday, my Lady," replied he, quietly.

"How was that? Who asked her? What did she say?"

"It was the Baron von Glum that asked; and her answer was, 'Expecting a
disappointment.'"

"Very gratifying intelligence, I must say. Did you hear that, my Lord?"

"Yes, I heard it, and I have placed it in my mind in the same category
as her Crimean news."

"Can she inform us when we are to get away?" asked her Ladyship.

"She mentioned to-morrow evening as the time, my Lady," said the doctor,
calmly.

A faint laugh of derisive meaning was Lady Lackington's only reply; and
the doctor gravely remarked: "There is more in these things than we like
to credit; perhaps our very sense of inferiority in presence of such
prediction is a bar to our belief. We do not willingly lend ourselves to
a theory which at once excludes us from the elect of prophecy."

"Could she tell us who'll win the Derby?" said Spicer, joining the
colloquy. But a glance from her Ladyship at once recalled him from the
indiscreet familiarity.

"Do you think she could pronounce whose is