e fortune teller did not like the scornful curve to Jack's full red
lips nor the doubting, half-amused expression of her eyes. The woman had
recognized at once that this girl was not to be so easily influenced as
gentle Olive, nor as merry Jean, nor as the littlest maiden with the two
blond pigtails. She was even more difficult than the oldest girl of them
all, for Ruth had made no effort to conceal her surprise at the queer
jumble of truth and fiction that had come forth in the account of
Olive's history.

Obediently Jack put forth her strong, shapely hand, but the woman did
not touch it, although her shrewd, half-closed eyes never wandered from
the girl's face.

"Be on your guard. You don't wish other people to do anything for you,"
the gypsy spoke low and warningly. "I know you like to help them, but
you are too proud to want to be helped. Some day something you little
expect is going to happen to you that will make you have to depend on
other people for a long, long time." All at once the woman's harsh
manner changed and she gazed at her listener more kindly. "You are fond
of this ranch and would like to spend your whole life on it, wouldn't
you?" she questioned keenly.

Silently Jack bowed her head.

"You won't," the fortune teller went on solemnly; "you will travel over
a great part of the world and you may settle in a strange land. Anyhow,
I can see that you'll marry and have sons and----"

Jack blushed resentfully and the gypsy's beady eyes twinkled, for she
was a good enough judge of character to guess the elder Miss Ralston's
views on matrimony, merely by observing her pride and reserve. It was
true that Jack had vowed to the other girls a hundred times that nothing
and nobody could induce _her_ to marry; _she_ had more important things
to do.

"Dear me, granny, haven't you something pleasant to tell somebody?"
Jean interposed, coming forward for her turn in the game.

The gypsy frowned severely. "I can tell only the truth," she protested
in an important tone. "But you need not worry yet about your future,
young lady, for you don't take things so seriously as these other two
girls. Life is more of a joke to you; only see that you don't carry your
joking too far."

Jean pouted, jerking away her hand, and Ruth, who was particularly fond
of Jean, interrupted the old crone. "Tell our smallest girl's future
now, auntie; she is sure to have only good luck," she interceded.

The gammer smiled. Frieda had t