"I won't hurt you, pretty ladies," said the old woman, divining their
repugnance and half-fear and desiring to placate them. "Won't you have
your fortunes told? Only twenty-five cents, and I can tell you of your
past and as much as you will of your future. Only a quarter, pretty
ladies."
Betty glanced inquiringly at the other girls, but they shook their heads
decidedly--the mumbling old crone was getting on their nerves.
"Not to-day," said Betty, as kindly as she could. "We are expecting
company and we haven't time. Some other time perhaps."
"Some other day may be too late," said the old crone, leeringly. "Oh,
yes, you will have all the time there is to be miserable in. And you
will be! You will be! The curse be on you for refusing an old woman like
me the price of her bread!" and she hobbled down the long drive
muttering to herself and stopping once to shake her fist at the startled
girls.
"Oh, did you ever!" Mollie exclaimed. Just then there was a sound of
jolly, masculine laughter and around a corner of the house came the
boys.
"Oh, I've never been so glad to see anybody in all my life!" said Grace
with a little shiver, as the boys paused to gaze after the retreating
form of the old hag.
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