she had not quite succeeded, so she turned the current another way.

"Shall I tell your fortune now, Letty? Are you quite waked up?" said she.

"No, thee needn't, Cousin Jo; thee don't tell very good ones, I think."

"No, Letty, she shall not vex your head with nonsense. I think your fate
is patent; you will grow on a little longer like a pink china-aster, safe
in the garden, and in due time marry some good Friend,--Thomas Dugdale,
very possibly,--and live a tranquil life here in Slepington till you
arrive at a preacher-bonnet, and speak in meeting, as dear Aunt Allis did
before you."

Letty turned pale with rage. I did not think her blonde temperament held
such passion.

"I won't! I won't! I never will!" she cried out. "I hate Thomas Dugdale,
Sarah! Thee ought to know better about me! thee knows I cannot endure him,
the old thing!"

This climax was too much for Jo. With raised brows and a round mouth, she
had been on the point of whistling ever since Letty began; it was an old,
naughty trick of hers; but now she laughed outright.

"No sort of inspiration left, Sally! I must patch up Letty's fate myself.
Flatter not yourself that she is going to be a good girl and marry in
meeting; not she! If there's a wild, scatter-brained, handsome,
dissipated, godless youth in all Slepington, it is on him that testy
little heart will fix,--and think him not only a hero, but a prodigy of
genius. Friend Allis will break her heart over Letty; but I'd bet you a