Then the singer stopped suddenly, and he was listening
once more to the startling prediction of the old, old woman:
"I am proud that our house has sheltered you, but it is not for the last
time. You will come again, and you will be thin and pale and in rags,
and you will fall at the door. I see you coming with these two eyes of
mine."
That prediction had been made a long time ago, years since, it seemed,
but whenever it returned to him, and it returned at most unexpected times,
it lost nothing of its amazing vividness and power; rather they were
increased. Could it be true that the supremely old had a vision or
second sight? Then he rebuked himself angrily. There was nothing
supernatural in this world.
"Wake up, Harry! What are you thinking about?" whispered Dalton sharply.
"You seem to be dreaming, and here's a house full of pretty girls,
with more than a half-dozen looking at you, the gallant young officer of
the Army of Northern Virginia, the story of whose romantic exploits had
already reached Richmond."
"I was dreaming and I apologize," said Harry. That minute in which he
had seen so much, so far away, passed utterly, and in another minute both
he and Dalton were dancing with Virginia girls, as fair as dreams to
these two, who had looked so long only upon the tanned faces of soldiers.
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