THE FORTUNE-TELLER.
"WELL, to be sure!" And in well-feigned astonishment, Mrs. Stanley
threw down the cards and looked at Lizzie, who sat close by, watching
the performance with great interest.
"What is it—what is the matter?" she asked.
"What is the matter?" repeated the woman. "Why, you've got such a
lucky hand, that I ought to have half-a-crown for telling it; and if
you can't give it me now, you must remember me when you're a rich lady
riding in your carriage in silks and satins."
"Oh! Yes, I will," said Lizzie with a smile of supreme satisfaction,
taking up her gloves and preparing to put them on again.
"Wait a minute, my dear. I'll go through the cards once more, just to
be certain there's no mistake about it, and maybe I shall be able to
tell which way the riches are coming—whether from mother and father,
uncle or aunt."
But Lizzie shook her head at this suggestion.
And the woman, watching her, presently said, "No, it ain't through
either of these ways it'll come; and it won't be just yet either, for
I can see you'll travel a bit and see the world—a good deal more of it
than this little town can teach you."
While she was saying this the woman was moving the cards about, and
pretending to read her predictions from those she turned up; but she
kept her eyes on Lizzie, watching her face more than the cards. After
this mummery had been gone through for several minutes, she suddenly
threw down the cards with an angry expletive.
"If I wasn't afraid it 'ud turn out like that," she exclaimed, thumping
the table with her clenched fist.
"Why, what is it?" said Lizzie with whitening lips, "Am I to be a
servant after all?"
"Well, it won't last long. I see by the cards you are in service now,
though nobody would think it to look at you. People say fortunetellers
are deceivers, and they may be sometimes; but it's the stars are at
fault. And I'll tell you how, my dear. A wise woman looks at a hand,
and she sees fortune writ there plain as the nose on your face, then
she turns up the cards and sees fortune there again, and of course she
thinks it safe enough, and she tells the party, for it's taken her some
time to find out this much, and she don't stop to look no further, 'cos
there's no time to spare to learn any more, and so the thing that ought
to be done ain't known nothing about—ain't made itself seen, 'cos it
wants looking for, and so a fortune's lost. Ah! Many a fortune's lost
that way, my dear."
"But have you found out all about it for me?" asked Lizzie quickly; for
it was getting dark now, and she had a long way to go home.
"Yes, my dear. I've got to the bottom of the matter at last, though it
seemed as though the stars didn't want to disclose all their secrets
about you;" and she went on talking about the "stars" as though they
were intimate friends of hers, who could not resist her blandishments
when she was determined to wring their secrets from them.
"But you have not told me what I am to do," said Lizzie, rising from
her seat at last, and drawing her gloves over her fortunate hands.
"No, my dear. Because it's rather a disappointing thing I've got to
tell you; and I'm soft-hearted enough to feel sorry when I see a girl
disappointed, and maybe lose the fortune that's waiting for her,
because she can't make up her mind to stretch out her hand and lay hold
of it."
"Oh! I'm not like that," said Lizzie. "I'd get it, I know, if I had the
chance!"
"Well, my dear, you certainly have got the chance. The fortune's there
sure enough, but I can see it'll never drop into your lap. It wants
seeking. You must go and meet it, for it will never come to you in this
miserable town, nor while you are in service; I can see that plain
enough."
"But what am I to do?" said Lizzie in a tone of perplexity.
"Well, I ain't quite clear about that yet," said the woman. "I must
study the cards and the stars a bit deeper; such things as that ain't
found out in a hurry."
"Oh! But I can't stop any longer," said Lizzie in a tone of alarm; for
as she spoke a church clock struck nine, and she ought to have been
home by this time.
"No, no, you can't stay to-night, I know that, my dear; but still I
should be sorry for you to lose this fortune when you are willing to
get it."
While she was speaking the woman took down her bonnet and shawl from
the peg and put them on. "I'll walk back with you," she said; "for it's
hardly safe for a pretty girl like you to be so late. And as we go
along, we'll think of a plan to meet again; for I take a great interest
in young people, 'specially them as are the favourites of the stars, as
you are."
"I expect I shall catch it when I get home," said Lizzie, looking round
the lighted fair as they stepped out beside the wax-work show.
"Never mind, my dear, it won't be for long," said Mrs. Stanley; "the
stars speak plain enough on that. You've but a short time to be in
service, that's plainly writ—over six months I should say, but under a
year."
"Then it won't be long," said Lizzie in a relieved tone; "for I've been
out ten months."
"Ah! I thought it was about that time Jupiter indicated, and I should
say it'll end in a few days now."
"The sooner the better," said the girl; "for I hate service."
"Of course you do, my dear; the fortune that hangs over you won't let
you settle to it as other girls can. And now let us see about our
meeting again. I suppose you won't be able to get out any more this
week?"
"Not till Sunday," replied Lizzie with a sigh.
The woman reiterated it. "That's awkward," she said; "for I shall be
miles away from here by that time."
"But—but you won't go away till you've told me what I've to do to get
this fortune?' she said.
"Well, my dear, I'll help you to get it, if I can," said the woman in
a tone of benevolent pity; "but, you see, I'm only the servant of the
stars like the rest of mankind, and I must move on at their bidding,
and I know I've got to go the last thing on Saturday night, or first
thing on Sunday morning. I tell you what, though," she said, as though
she had just thought of something, "I might come and see you one night
about dusk. Is there a side gate at your house?"
"Yes," said Lizzie eagerly; "and my mistress will be out to-morrow
night, and I shall be alone. So if you come about eight o'clock, you
might tell me what I ought to do, and I'll pay you well for your
trouble when I get my fortune."
"Of course you will, my dear. You'll be worth your weight in gold by
and by, and able to help old Mother Stanley and a good many people
besides."
And she talked of the splendid silk dresses she would wear, and the
number of servants and carriages she would keep, and the grand things
she would do for all her friends by and by, until the silly girl's
head was completely turned; which was exactly what the artful woman
designed, for this would enable her to carry out the plan she had
formed when she first saw Lizzie, and the discontent on her face told
her she was dissatisfied with her lot in life, and ready to incur any
risks to change it.
Mrs. Stanley went to within a few yards of the house where Lizzie
lived, carefully noted its appearance, and then turned back, laughing
to herself over the girl's folly, and how easily she had been taken in.
She was careful to be near the house about eight o'clock the next
night, and, as she expected, she soon saw Lizzie peeping out of the
side gate looking for her. She held up her finger warningly as she
drew near, and looked up and down the street to make sure no one was
watching her, and that no policeman was in sight, and having satisfied
herself that nobody was about, she darted inside the gate and carefully
bolted it after her, and then followed Lizzie to the comfortable little
kitchen at the side.
"Well, my dear, I've had a deal of trouble to find out all you wanted
to know," she said, seating herself in the chair Lizzie had placed
ready for her. "Are we all alone—is that woman who calls herself your
mistress safe out of the way?"
"Yes, she's gone out to supper," said Lizzie, "and will not be home
till ten o'clock, and master has gone with her."
"Master?" repeated the woman in a scornful tone. "Didn't I tell
you, you'd soon be worth your weight in gold, and able to buy these
half-and-half people up over and over again. Take that horrid cap
off, my dear. I do hate to see a lady who is on the edge of coming
into a fortune in a thing like that," and Mrs. Stanley loosened her
own bonnet-strings and unpinned her shawl by way of making herself
comfortable, while Lizzie took off the obnoxious cap and put it out of
sight.
"My dear, you've got lovely hair. You'll set off the jewels and satins
you'll wear by and by," said the woman, apparently lost in admiration
of the girl as she seated herself at the other side of the table, and
prepared to listen to the further unfoldment of her "fortune."
"Now you want to know what secrets the stars have disclosed since I saw
you last," went on Mrs. Stanley. "Well, my dear, it's all summed up in
one word—travel. You've got to travel—to go right away from this dull
out of the way misfortuned place; for I can see plain enough that the
malefic stars rule over this town, and the sooner you're out of it the
better."
"But how am I to go?" asked Lizzie in some anxiety. "My mother and
father and all my friends live here, and I don't know where else to go."
The woman crossed her arms and looked at Lizzie. "Ain't there nobody as
knows you anywhere—not in London or some other big city?" she said.
The girl shook her head dolefully. "I haven't got a friend in the world
outside of this town," she said.
"Well, now, that is unfortunate. And worth your weight in gold you'll
be by and by," said her visitor, as if in great perplexity.
"Could—could you help me to get away, do you think?" asked the girl
with some hesitation in her tone.
It was just what the woman had been waiting for, but she would not
appear eager about it. "Well, suppose we talk it over a bit," she said
in apparent reluctance. "Are you quite sure you ain't got no friends
outside this town?"
"Yes, quite sure; and I haven't a penny in the world unless my mistress
pays me my month's wages to-morrow," said Lizzie with tears in her eyes.
"Well, perhaps she'll pay you; and then you can go by yourself and seek
your fortune," said Mrs. Stanley.
But the girl shook her head. "I shouldn't know where to look," she
said. "I don't know anything about the stars; but if I could come with
you, I should be sure not to miss it."
"That's true enough," said the woman meditatively; "but do you think
your friends would agree to the plan?"
"I shouldn't ask them," said Lizzie, smiling at the absurdity of such a
suggestion. "My mother thinks there is nothing better than service for
a girl like me, and so I'm sure she wouldn't let me look for anything
else, if she could help it. No! If I am to come with you, I should
take care not to let anybody else know about it, or hear where I am
until I get my fortune. Then, of course, I shall want to come back and
help them all. I shall set my father up in a good business, and let my
brother Jack learn to be an engineer."
"Of course you will help your friends, my dear, when you get your
fortune; and it will be a pity to lose it for the want of going to seek
it."
"I won't lose it," said Lizzie confidently, "if you will only let me
come with you."
"Very well; as it seems the only way we can do it, perhaps you'd
better. You know what sort of a place you'll have to travel in. But I
shall have to coax my husband over to let you join us."
"Do you think he will object?" asked Lizzie anxiously.
"Well, if you get your wages to-morrow it can be managed easily enough
I think; for you can pay that to him for your travelling expenses. How
much did you say you would have?"
"Twelve shillings," answered Lizzie.
"Only twelve shillings! It ain't much, my dear to pay us for the risk
and trouble, and—"
"Oh! But I will pay you for that by and by, Mrs. Stanley," interrupted
Lizzie. "I will give you the twelve shillings as a little present."
The woman smiled to think how completely she had duped the silly girl,
and how bitterly she would repent her folly by and by. But she took
care not to betray any of these thoughts now. She only said, "Ah! When
you are worth your weight in gold, my dear, you will be a generous
friend, I know."
"Yes, that I will," said Lizzie, feeling sure that it would be easy to
do this when she had plenty of money to do as she liked with.
"Now, then, we must talk about how you are to get away," said practical
Mrs. Stanley, who was beginning to grow tired of the comedy. "How many
clothes have you got?"
"Shall I have to bring my clothes with me?" said the girl, a little
disappointed at this prospect.
"Yes, you must bring your clothes to wear until you can get better."
"I thought I should so soon get the silk dresses you spoke about, I
need not trouble myself with these common things," and Lizzie looked
down disdainfully at the neat print dress she wore.
Mrs. Stanley, however, regarded the dress with different feelings.
"Those clothes are too good to leave behind," she said. "You might give
them to me, and it would help make up for the cost of your journey."
"Very well, you shall have them then. But how am I to carry my box if
nobody is to know I am going away?" she suddenly asked. "Am I to go
with you to-night?"
"No, no, that'll never do. You must meet me about a mile out of the
town by six o'clock on Sunday morning," said Mrs. Stanley quickly.
"But how am I to carry the box?"
"You must leave the box behind. Only bring all your clothes except your
caps, you won't want them any more," said the woman.
"It'll be a big bundle to carry," said Lizzie, mentally passing in
review the new underlines and cotton frocks, to say nothing of the hats
and jackets that were included in that one word "clothes."
"I might take some of them with me to-night, if you like," said Mrs.
Stanley in an indifferent tone.
"Oh! If you would not mind doing that, I could get away easier on
Sunday morning," said Lizzie. "I will go up and pack up my clean
clothes, and I can put on my best frock to come in."
"No, no, that won't do," said the woman; who thought that a girl like
Lizzie, dressed in her best frock so early in the morning, would be
sure to attract attention. Besides, the best frock and hat might
possibly be recognized by someone she might meet, and so, to make sure
that this risk was not incurred, she suggested that the best frock and
hat, and as many underclothes as she could put up, should be taken away
that night.
"I'll bring you a bonnet and shawl to wear on Sunday morning. One that
will screen your face so that nobody shall see who you are, as they
might do if you wore one of your own hats," said Mrs. Stanley.
"I wish I could go with you to carry the bundle," said Lizzie, as she
lighted the candle to go to her bed-room, which was at the top of the
house. "I won't be long," she said as she left the kitchen.
"Don't hurry, my dear; mind you bring all the things," said her visitor.
And while she was speaking, she untied her shoes, and before Lizzie was
up the first flight of stairs she had taken a long wax taper from her
pocket, lighted it at the kitchen gas, slipped off her shoes, and then
crept into the dining and drawing rooms. She looked all round these to
see if there was anything worth stealing among the ornaments, but only
found a small silver fruit knife, which she instantly transferred to
her pocket.
But she examined the window shutters at the back, and the fastenings of
the street door, with a good deal of care, and then went back to the
kitchen, put on her shoes again, and looked over the locks and bolts of
the back door.
She was seated in the chair just where she had been left when Lizzie
came down again with the bundle in her hand.
"I must be going now," she said rising from her seat. "I will bring the
bonnet and shawl to-morrow night about nine o'clock, and throw it over
the gate; and you must get away from here soon after five on Sunday
morning, and walk to the first milestone on the London road. We shall
be along there about six, and then we can hide you out of sight. But
mind, if a policeman should be near you, just walk on, and don't even
look at me or the caravans till I speak first."
Lizzie gave the required promise, and so they parted.