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"Yes, I hardly think there are any of them who would care to cultivate a refined nature, even if they had the opportunity."

"Have you any faith in their fortune telling?"

Scott laughed as he answered: "Oh, no; though I had my fortune told by an old gypsy once, but have hardly thought of it since."

"Has any of it come true?"

"Well, really, I have not noticed. Let me see--why yes, I do not know but there has a part of it come to pass."

"Then she must have known."

"No, I think she guessed at it."

"How could she?"

"Easy enough."

"What did she tell you?"

"That my parents were both living and that I had never soiled my hands with work."

"Was it true?"

"Yes."

"Was that all?"

"No, she said that I would marry a beautiful woman."

"And so you did," said Carrie, thoughtlessly. "And is that all?"

"She said there were tears for me, and that I would commit a crime."

"Mercy!" said Carrie, starting.

"Do not get excited, Miss Horton, I assure you I have not the least intention of making good her prophecy," Scott said, smiling.

"No, I do not think you have, but--"

"But what?"

"If you should happen to."

"I do not think it will ever happen."

"How long ago was it that you had your fortune told?"

"Oh, several years ago. I merely had it told to please my curiosity. I have hardly thought of it since."

"It seems strange that any of it should come true if she did not know what it was."

"You are not superstitious, are you?"

"Oh, no, I do not believe in it myself, only it seems funny that there are so many things they tell that come to pass."

"I think nothing comes to pass that would be any different in case they did not predict it."

"I have often thought of a gypsy who told my fortune once. She gave me nothing but riches and a life of pleasure. Soon after she told Guy's fortune, and really he was to be just as happy all his life as I."

"I am sure that is pleasant to think of."

"Yes, but it would be very strange if we were both happy all our life.

No one ever is happy always."

"Very few," said Scott, and then his mind dwelt on the scenes which had passed, and he thought of the gypsy woman's words: "You will marry a beautiful woman, and there will be tears and the stain of blood on your hands." His lip curled in scorn at the thought of crime. He turned again to his book, and, though he had not the least idea of allowing himself to think of the old gypsy's words, there came now and then to his mind the words that he had scarce thought of since he had heard them from her lips. He would now and then cast his eyes toward Carrie, thinking what a sweet, amiable, home-loving girl she was. How happy she would yet make some one.

Guy had called on June for a special purpose. He had made up his mind that there was one question that he wanted to ask June. Thus, when Carrie so generously offered to leave them alone, Guy very readily accepted the favor. June had been playing a soft air on her harp, and when Guy entered she arose to welcome him. June was practical, and she treated Guy as a friend, though she was keen enough to see that his intentions meant something more than friendship.

"I have come, as I told you I would," said Guy, seating himself beside June, "to speak on a very important subject. Have you any idea what it is?"

"I suppose I have," said June, as the color rose to her face.

"Then you are prepared for it?"

"I suppose I shall be."

"What is it?" Guy asked, smiling.

"That is not my part of the business."

"What is your part?"

"To answer questions."

"You are the most practical and honest person I ever saw," said Guy, laughing. "Why do you not look surprised and be entirely ignorant of what I intend to ask you?"

"Because I am not entirely ignorant."

"Then I suppose your answer is ready."

"It is."

"What is it; yes or no?"

"That depends on the question."

"Suppose that I were to tell you that somebody wanted a wife?"

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