At these words the guests looked at one another with some curiosity, and one or two of the initiated exclaimed, “Oh, yes, the ring and the thimble, you know, and those things that they sometimes put into a cake!” But although some had evidently heard of the custom, to the majority it was entirely new. Brenda, for example, was altogether taken by surprise, and enjoyed this all the more because she had not previously been taken into the secret. During the excitement of going to the church and assisting at the wedding, she had half-forgotten the unpleasant incident of the gypsy’s visit; but now, for a moment, it all came back to her, and her face clouded a little at the remembrance.
By some artful contrivance of the confectioner’s the cake separated itself into slices without any exertions on the part of Agnes, beyond that of raising each slice with the silver knife, and handing it to the ushers, who, in turn, passed it to the guests. It happened that Nora and Brenda were standing together, when Arthur Weston gave to them each her piece of wedding cake.
“Now, choose,” he said, mischievously, balancing a plate on each hand. “I should not for a moment dare to make the choice for you, as in that way I might be settling your fate for you.”
“Oh, Brenda would n’t mind that,” replied Nora; “she rather likes to have her future read for her.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the young man, with a searching glance at Brenda. “Perhaps she traffics with fortune-tellers.”
