" Two large, curtainless windows,
with minute diamond-shaped panes, set in leaden casements,
admitted the golden and crimson light.
"For the reception-room of a sorceress," remarked Sir Norman,
with an air of disappointed criticism, "there is nothing very
wonderful about all this. How is it she spaes fortunes any way?
As Lilly does by maps and charts; or as these old Eastern mufti
do it by magic mirrors and all each fooleries?"
"Neither," said Ormiston, "her style in more like that of the
Indian almechs, who show you your destiny in a well. She has a
sort of magic lake in her room, and - but you will see it all for
yourself presently."
"I have always heard," said Sir Norman, in the same meditative
way, "that truth lies at the bottom of a well, and I am glad some
one has turned up at last who is able to fish it out. Ah! Here
comes our ancient Mercury to show us to the presence of your
goddess."
The door opened, and the "old bag of bones," as Ormiston
irreverently styled his lady-love's ancient domestic, made a sign
for them to follow him. Leading the way down along a corridor,
he flung open a pair of shining folding-doors at the end, and
ushered them at once into the majestic presence of the sorceress
and her magic room.
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