The School Queens. Meade L. T.

beg your pardon; I did not recognize you.”

      Maggie dropped a low curtsy. “I’m the gipsy girl Caranina, and I should like to tell your fortune, kind and generous sir.”

      Just then the pretty face of Cicely was seen peeping over the rectory grounds. She was dressed as a flower-girl, and looked more lovely than he had ever seen her before.

      “Why, dad, dad,” she cried, “oh! you must come in and join our fun. Mustn’t he, Maggie?”

      “I am Caranina, the gipsy girl,” said Maggie, dropping another low curtsy, and holding her little tambourine in the most beseeching attitude; “and you are Flora, queen of the flowers.”

      “Well, really, this is entertaining,” said Mr. Cardew. “What queer little minxes you all are! And may I really come in and see the fun?”

      “Indeed you may, dad,” said the flower-girl. “Oh, and please we want you to look at Merry. Merry’s a fairy, with wings. We’re going to have what we call an evening revel presently, and we are all in our dress for the occasion. But Maggie – I mean Caranina – is telling our fortunes – that is, until the real fun begins.”

      “Do please come in, Mr. Cardew. This is the height of good luck,” said Mrs. Tristram, coming forward herself at this moment. “Won’t you join my husband and me under the shadow of the tent yonder? The young people are having such a good time.”

      “I will come for a minute or two,” said Cardew, dismounting as he spoke. “Can some one hold Hector for me?”

      David was quickly summoned, and Mr. Cardew walked across the hay-field to where the hastily improvised tent was placed.

      “No one can enter here who doesn’t submit to the will of the gipsy,” remarked Caranina in her clear and beautiful voice. “This is my tent, and I tell the fortunes of all those kind ladies and gentlemen who will permit me to do so.”

      “Then you shall tell mine, with pleasure, little maid,” said Mr. Cardew, who felt wonderfully cheered and entertained at this al fresco amusement.

      Quick as thought Maggie had been presented with a silver coin. With this she crossed the good gentleman’s palm, and murmured a few words with regard to his future. There was nothing whatever remarkable in her utterance, for Maggie knew nothing of palmistry, and was only a very pretense gipsy fortune-teller. But she was quick – quicker than most – in reading character; and as she glanced now into Mr. Cardew’s face an inspiration seized her.

      “He is troubled about something,” thought the girl. “It’s the thin end of the wedge; I’ll push it in a little farther.”