dvice, Madame?" she went on, almost threateningly. "Believe me,
I do not often offer advice to my clients. It is not my business to do
so. But I should have been a wicked woman had I not done so this time.
That is why I called you back."

"Is it because of something you have seen in the cards that you tender us
this advice?" asked Anna curiously.

But Madame Cagliostra again looked strangely frightened.

"No, no!" she said hastily. "I repeat that the cards told me nothing.
The cards were a blank. I could see nothing in them. But, of course, we
do not only tell fortunes by cards"--she spoke very quickly and rather
confusedly. "There is such a thing as a premonition."

She waited a moment, and then, in a business-like tone, added, "And now
I leave the question of the fee to the generosity of these ladies!"

Madame Wolsky smiled a little grimly, and pulled out a twenty-franc
piece.

The woman bowed, and murmured her thanks.

When they were out again into the roughly paved little street, Anna
suddenly began to laugh.

"Now, isn't that a typical Frenchwoman? She really did feel ill, she
really saw nothing in my cards, and, being an honest woman, she did not
feel that she could ask us to pay! Then, when we had gone away, leaving
only five francs, her thrift got the better of her honesty; she felt she
had thrown away ten good francs! She therefore called us back, and gave
us what she took to be very excellent advice. You see, I had told her
that I am a gambler. She knows, as we all know, that to play for money
is a foolish thing to do. She is aware that in Paris it is not very easy
for a stranger to obtain admittance--especially if that stranger be a
respectable woman--to a gambling club. She therefore said to herself,
'I will give this lady far more than ten francs' worth of advice. I will
tell her not to go away! As long as she remains in Paris she cannot lose
her money. If she goes to Dieppe, Trouville, any place where there is a
Casino, she will lose her money. Therefore I am giving her invaluable
advice--worth far more than the ten francs which she ought to be made
to give me, and which she shall be made to give me!'"

"I suppose you are right," said Sylvia thoughtfully. "And yet--and
yet--she certainly spoke very seriously, did she not, Anna? She seemed
quite honestly--in fact, terribly afraid that we should go away
together."

"But there is no idea of our going away together," said Madame Wolsky,
rather cros