The Fortune Teller.

Golden Bay Argus, Volume 4, Issue 35, 25 January 1895, Page 2

The Fortune Teller.

By Qrosvenor liunster.

Anybody who oareß to peruse the columns of miscellaneous advertisements in the Melbourne Evening Bubbler will have noticed, with aseuseuf amusement, thataoonßiderable number of persons must make a comfortable living by telling fortunes. There are in truth some fifty or sixty of such persona in Melbourne, not so many in Sjdney, and a few in the other great Australian cities. All this gees to show that notwithstanding the sohoolmaster has been abroad for many years, and that what the newspaper writer terms the “ march of intellect,” has been going on, like old John Brown for so long. The average human being is as superstitious now as he was two or three hundred years ago. Cicero wondered that augurs when they met could forbear from laughing, doubtless they had many a hearty laugh when in private, and we may suppose that the sybils ■. oi modern time, not only derive profitable • incomes from the crass credulety of their patrons, but a large amount of entertainment also. Their patrons must be numerous, since the average oharge is but half-a-crown, and so it must take a large number of idiots to make op a sum which, divided among so many, still yields suoh a handsome profit to each. Among the most successful of these seers in Melbourne was an old woman who used to oall herself Madame Lenore. She is not in “business” now, having amassed sufficient to retire upon and live very comfortably. But four years ago Bhe was in full swing, counting among her customers, fools of all grades, and from the “ oarriage lady.” down to the servant girl. The faat i 3, Madame Lenore was a out above the ordinary character of her olass. She was fairly educated, was quiok witted • and peroeptive, and able to read character with considerable accuraoy. Naturally, 6he made some happy hits in her divinations, with the result tnat her fame was spread abroad, and her oocult powers effectively advertised in oircles, the members of which, one might suppose would be superior to the credulity upon whioh she traded. It was about tbis old woman that two ladies were conversing in a cosy room in a Toorak mansion some five years ago. “ And Mrs. Winstanly gays,” criod one —a Miss Luoy Abbott—“ that it is perfectly wonderful. And she’s such an awfullooking old woman, with hairs on her ohin, and black eyes, that look you through and through" And Mrs Winstanly declares she told her all about her past, and described her late husband, and—and —every thing.” The pretty babbler paused, from lack of breath, while the other—a handsome dark girl of eighteen— Miss Dora Whitton, listened with an amused smile on her face, “And—and everything,” she said, “ comprises all the idle gossip the old witch has been enabled to piok up.” “ Ob, but she told her about her future, and said she was to be married again, to a tall, handsome man, with money, and she told the initials of his name—there.” “ And what were they " G.V.R.” A shade passed across Miss Wbitton’s faoo only to pass away as rapidly. “ Well,' 1 aha said, with a little laugh that seemed rather forced, “ that is curious. Those are the initials of Charley Riohards— Charles Vincent Riohards.” “Yes, and we know he admires Mrs Winstanly very much, don’t we ?” giggled the other. “ Does he ?” said Miss Whitton, with an * air of haughty indifference. “ Well, I .Suppose he does/iTust the sort of vvgmen most men do admiro. But I don’t think I should, if I were a man, which thank heaven I am not,” and with this she swept from the room. Miss Luoy Abbott, a blue eyed blonde of the type we know so well, and whioh is ill fitted for the wear and tear of life, leaned back in her chair and laughed softly. “ She didn’t like it, for all her affeotation of indifference,” she murmured. ‘‘l know how much Bho loves the l : ttle widow—he 1 be I What lun it is, to be sure, to be able to give these Bly little ‘ pokes in the riba,’ (as my brother Jack would Bay) of people’s pride. Humph I she laughed, or, rather, sneered, at my torture teller. Very well, I’d bet a box of Jouvins’ best that she will pay her a visit for all that.” Mias Lnoy Abbott was right. She had that cunning which enables these narrow people to guess people’s motives end intentions up to a certain point, and when they were affected by jealous passion or some still more unworthy principle. She knew—this sort of woman always knows these IhiDgs—that in spite of her air of hanpht? indifference, Mins WM*'*' oll was by no means insensible to the fascinations o! Mr. Charlaß Vincent Riohards, as ehe knew also that the gentleman himself, though bo flirted so ostentatiously with Mrs. Winatanly, was desperately in love with Dora Whitton. And she delighted, rb this kind of oreature does, in playing upon the tender chords of a passion whioh was so evident to her, but whioh those it affected thought none knew of but themßelveS. It was wjUlyy:nriouß feeling of contempt for herself tliafSlss Whitton paid a visit to Madame Lenore—a contempt whioh was intensified when she looked upon the woman herself. A face, uglier than that of Hecate, full of sly wiokedness, and evil purpose—but a face nevertheless which was a fortune to its possessor. The weak-minded people from whom she drew her revenues oould not but associate such a face with the possessor of demoniacal knowledge. The majority of her olients believed her to be a veritable sritoh, and she looked one. She received Miss Whitton with effusion, ind at once prepared to reveal her part, present and future. And even the youug lady was startled not only by the precision of her knowledge, but still more by the perception the old woman appeared to have of the state of her affections. “ Aha 1 my dear,” said Madame, " you Bee It is my tirade to please, bo I dp not always tell the trnth to my oustomei —it would not 10. The other day a pretty lady came to me !or her fortune. Ah, well, i. read it easily in the cards. I find she is in hove with a gentlenan—l oonsult my glass, I see he is handlome, and I find out his initials. -Good; ihen I tell the silly little woman, and she go sway happy—yes—aacl she pay me gold. Bat, my clear, I no tell the truth to that foolish woman. The handsome gentleman, ke do not love her ■, it is you, my dear, he love. Shall I Bhow you him in the glass ? ft is but one little half-sovereign more.” “ Very well,” cried Miss Whitton, fighting with her wonder and curiosity. The old witch disappeared behind a ourlain, Presently she came forth carrying an aval mirror. This she set so that the light from a lamp should fall fall npon it. The mirror was covered with a black cloth. Madame oat by the side of the table on which the mirror was placed; she recited some cabalistic rubbish. Miss Whitton looked on contemptuously. Presently Madame whisked the doth from the mirror.,- “ Voila /" she oriod, " that is the man you love and who loveß you.” The young girl gazed in bewilderment. Yea, there was the portrait of Mr. Richard-* - there oould be no doubt. A warm blush juflaaed her face ancl neck. She hid her taoe in her bauds. The old woman smiled, is she covered the glass onoe more with the Sloth. “ You see, I speak true to you. It would not do to Bpeak lie; you have sense, and would not belief. But I tell you true that gentleman he love you, and will tell you eo very soon. And you Biiall marry him and be alway happy. I have earn my fee, eh?”

MBs Whitton did not answer. Sho

placed two sovereigns in the old hag’s hand. Her talons closed tightly upoD them— her

eyes gleamed with the light of gratified avarice. As Miss Whitton departed a young gentleman came from behind the green baize curtain whioh waß hung across Madame’s reception room. He was a handsome fellow, particularly at this moment, when his dark eyes gleamed with an expression of triumph and gratified pride. At a glance it was easy to see that he was the original of the portrait presented by Madame in the mirror. In truth it was Mir. Charleß Vincent Richards himself. It was evident that there was conspiracy in the air. . “ Now,” said the gentleman to Mauame, “ you have done well. Be discreet and say nothing; here is your reward.” ” Bon garfon mumbled the witch. “ GeneroUß young man. She is fine young lady-proud,, eh ? with plenty brain. Attend, if she know you play this trick you never get her for marry—never, never.” “ I know that as well as you. But I don t mean to let her know.” “ And mind you tell her soon you love her, eh? That will make my reading all right.” „ , “ That so—and now, farewell, Madame. If you get many more customers like us you will be able to run a bank.” “ Ah, well, that is as it is. You see for the youDg it is love; for the old it is gold. Au revoir, Monsieur Gallant, and success for you. Va." When Miss Whitton next met Mr. Riohards, that proud and ordinarily selfoontained young lady seemed very uneasy and restless. She flashed and drooped her ■syes when he spoke to her. Mrs. Winstanly, observing this, was highly indignant, the whioh being observed by Miss Luoy Abbott, that young woman was delighted. After a waltz, Bly Mr. Riohards succeeded in getting Miss Wbitton into the conservatory. Then with the confidence of one who was assured of suooess, he ponred out his passion. She listened quietly, and did not seek to withdraw her hand from his. And when to his eager question she answered “ yes,” she scarce withdrew from the warm embrace in which he clasped Der. They did not know that the little widow was looking on pale and furious. “ That old woman is a liar 1” she cried that night as she threw aside her jewels, “to tell me that he loved me. Oh, I hate everybody.” They had been married some time, when one morning Mrs. Riohards said to her husband, as they sat at breakfast, “ Charley, do you believe in fortune telling ?” Ho looked up with a peculiar smile on his face. “ Why, yes, Dora, I have every reason to.” “Yon don’t mean to say,” she oried excitedly, “that you’ve had yours told.” “ To be sure I have.” “ Who told it ?’.’ “ Madame Lenore.” “ Charley ! —when f” “ On the Ist April last.” “ Gracious I" Then she sat some time in thought. Presently she went to him and encircling his neck with one fair arm—as Hort of amorous garrotting process—she whispered. “ Charley, confess now you played me a trick.” Then he did confess,telling her that having by accident overheard the conversation between Miss Abbott and herself,he had taken an opportunity of writing on the Sybil, and enlisting her in a conspiracy to win what he feared to aßk for—his loved one’s heart. Ab it happened, he was at Madame Lenore’s when Miss Whitton paid her visit, and overheard everything. “ A most ungentlomanly thing to do,” oried Mrs. Richards. “So it was, Dora, a snobbish thing. But, Dora dear, let us oonsol ourselves with the comfortable reflection that the end justifies the means.” And the more she reflected upon the matter the more she agreed with the dootrine.