"What is the matter?" she demanded sharply, and her face grew pale.
"The heat of the room, the scents, make me feel rather faint," said Dan haltingly.
"Remove the incense burner to the end of the room, Mr. Laurance," said Miss Armour, and when the young man did so, she turned to Halliday. "Are you, then, so susceptible to scents?"
"Yes. I don't like strong perfumes. You do apparently, Miss Armour. Why, even your cards are scented," and he held out the odd pack.
The lady took the cards and smelt them, but showed no sign of emotion. "I expect it's some scent Eliza gave me a few weeks ago. I had it on my handkerchief, and it must have got on to the cards. Have you ever smelt a perfume like it before?" she asked suddenly.
"No," said Dan, lying promptly, as he thought it best to be on the safe side, "and I hope I shan't again. It's too rich for my taste."
"And was for mine," said Miss Armour indifferently. "I only used it once or twice. Strange that you should be so susceptible to scents. However, you feel better now. That's right. And the cards? See! There is great good fortune coming to you."
"That's jolly," said Dan, now quite recovered.
"In a few weeks," said Miss Armour impressively, "a wonderful chance will be offered to you. If you take it, a large amount of money will be yours within the year. You will marry Miss Moon if you seize this chance. If you do not, she will marry another person," and the fortune-teller gathered her pack.
"In that case, I shall take the chance at once," said Dan promptly.
Miss Armour looked at him hard. "I advise you to do so," she said briefly.
[Illustration: "Why Even your cards are scented!" _Page_ 107.]
The tea that followed the fortune-telling was quite a success, as Miss Armour was a most amusing talker, and the rest of the party proved themselves to be good listeners. The old lady, being an invalid, had ample time for reading, and concerned herself chiefly with French Mémoires, the cynical light-hearted tone of which appealed to her. But she was also well-posted in English literature of the best kind, and could converse very ably--as she did--on leading authors and their works. Dan complimented her on the knowledge she had attained.
"Oh, but it is no credit to me, Mr. Halliday," Miss Armour protested. "I have so much time unoccupied, and grow weary of playing patience and of knitting. It would be strange if I did not know something, after years and years of reading. Books are my best friends."