he gipsy's
prophecy."

"What was that?"

"Did I never tell you that story, nor the girls either? for it was a
standing joke against me at home for years. Oh, you must have it then.
But be generous, and don't turn it as a weapon against me:--

"Some years ago, a gipsy woman came to our kitchen-door, and asked to
see the young ladies of the house. Of course, we all ran out to look at
the sybil, and hear her errand, which was nothing more nor less than to
tell our fortunes. Partly out of curiosity, partly out of fun, we
determined to have a peep into futurity, and see what the coming years
had in store for us. We did not believe in gipsy craft. We well knew
that, like our own, the woman's powers were limited; that it was all
guess-work; that her cunning rested in a shrewd knowledge of
character,--of certain likings springing out of contrasts, which led her
to match the tall with the short, the fair with the dark, the mild with
the impetuous, the sensitive and timid with the bold and adventurous. On
these seeming contrarieties the whole art of fortune-telling, as far as
my experience goes, appears based.

"Well, she gave husbands to us all--dark, fair, middle-complexioned,
short and tall, amiable, passionate, or reserved--just the opposite of
our own complexions or temperament, such as she judged them to be; and
she showed a great deal of talent and keen perception of character in
the choice of our mates.

"In my case, however, she proved herself to be no prophet. I was to
marry a sea-faring gentleman--a tall, black-eyed, passionate man--with
whom I was to travel to foreign parts, and die in a foreign land. I was
to have no children; and he was to be very jealous of me. 'And yet, for
all that,' quoth the gipsy, drawing close up to me, and whispering in my
ear, but not so low, but that all the rest heard her concluding speech,
'you shall wear the breeches.'"

"She did not bargain that you were to marry a Scotchman," said Lyndsay,
laughing.

"Nor did she know, with all her pretended art, that my husband was to be
a soldier, fair-haired, and blue-eyed, and that this little lass would
give a direct contradiction to her prophecy," and Flora kissed fondly
Josey's soft cheek. "Well, I was so tormented about that last clause in
my fortune, that I determined it should never come to pass; that
whatever portion of my husband's dress I coveted, I would scrupulously
avoid even the insertion of a toe into his nether garments."