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Updated: July 18, 2025
Therefore it created no surprise in the family one morning, when school-time came and passed, and Gypsy did not make her appearance, that she was reported to be "making a raft" down in the orchard swamp. "Run and call her, Winnie," said Mrs. Breynton. "Tell her it is very late, and I want her to come right up, remember."
Gypsy leaned over the side of the carriage, peering in among the trees where the shadow was blackest. "Father, may I get out a minute?" She sprang over the wheel, ran into the cross-road, into a clump of bushes, pushed them aside, screamed for joy. "Here they are, here they are—quick, quick! Oh, Winnie Breynton, do just wake up and let me look at you! Oh, Joy, I am so glad!"
They saw that something was wrong; but wisely considered that that time was not the one for making any inquiries into the matter. Mrs. Breynton thought, also, that if Gypsy had been guilty of ill-temper or rudeness, she would confess it herself. She was right; for as soon as dinner was over, Gypsy called her away alone, and told her all the story.
For something very tall and white was sitting on the bedpost with folded arms. "Why, Gypsy Breynton!" "What?" "What are you up there for?" "Got up so's to keep awake. It's real fun." "Why, how your teeth chatter. Isn't it cold up there?" "Ra-ther. I don't know but I might as well come down."
When she carried the dinner, the walk was long and wearisome, and Mrs. Littlejohn neglected to call her an angel of mercy, and it must be confessed Gypsy's enthusiasm diminished perceptibly. That evening Mr. and Mrs. Breynton were out to tea, and Tom was off fishing. Mrs. Breynton left Mrs. Littlejohn's supper in a basket on the shelf, and told Gypsy where it was.
Breynton, smiling. "Why?" "Nothing, only I thought so. You were a very wise woman." A while after she spoke up, suddenly. "Mother, don't the Quakers say good matches are made in heaven?" "Who's been putting sentimental ideas into the child's head?" said her father, in an undertone. "Why, Gypsy Breynton!" said Winnie, looking very much shocked; "you hadn't ought to say such things.
"Next!"—and down the first row went Miss Cardrew, asking the same question of every girl, and the second row, and the third. Gypsy sat on the end of the fourth settee. "Gypsy Breynton, did you put the kitten in my desk?" "No'm, I didn't," said Gypsy; which was true enough. It was Joy who did that part of it. "Did you have anything to do with the matter, Gypsy?"
Now, she doesn't know anything about that child, not a thing, and if she'd taken him to places as much as I have, and had to lug him home screaming all the way, I guess she would have stopped wanting to, pretty quick, and I always take Winnie when I can, you know now, mother; and then Joy wouldn't talk going over, either." "Whom did she walk with?" interrupted Mrs. Breynton.
"What do you think of her?" asked Gypsy, a little puzzled by her mother's expression. "She is a good deal of a scold, and something of a sufferer," said Mrs. Breynton. Gypsy's face fell, and they walked up to the house in silence. "Then you're not going to do anything for her?" asked Gypsy, at length, in a disappointed tone. "Oh, yes. She needs help.
When Winnie was sufficiently mopped up to admit of his locomotion about the house with any safety to the carpets, he was dispatched to the library on the errand to his father. What with various wire-pullings of Gypsy's, and arguments from Tom, the result was that Mr. Breynton gave his consent to the plan, on condition that the young people would submit to his accompanying them.
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