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Updated: July 18, 2025
Never since she was a very little child had Gypsy been known to say what was not true. All her words were like her eyes—clear as sunbeams. At dinner Joy did all the talking. Mrs. Breynton asked Gypsy what was the matter, but Gypsy said "Nothing." If Joy did not choose to tell of the matter, she would not.
"Why, there's no harm done, Tom, dear," said Gypsy, looking up into his face. "I can't talk about it, Gypsy I can't, I thought, I " Tom looked the other way to see the view, and did not finish his sentence. "You don't suppose she's going to be a somnambulist?" asked Mr. Breynton. This was the first time he had remembered to be worried over any of Gypsy's peculiarities all day.
"She sh sh shooked me the old thing!" sobbed Winnie. "He broke my box and lost all my beads, and I've got them all to pick up just as I was trying to put my room in order, and so I was mad," said Gypsy, frankly. "Winnie, you may go down stairs," said Mrs. Breynton, "you must learn to be more careful with Gypsy's things." Winnie slid down on the banisters, and Mrs. Breynton shut the door.
Breynton did not say one word. She began to put on her things very fast, and Tom hurried up to the store for his father. They hunted everywhere, through the fields and in the village; they inquired of every shop-keeper and every passer, but no one had seen a girl in black, with a little boy.
Gypsy Breynton, you're sound asleep." "Asleep!" said Gypsy, sitting up with a jerk, and rubbing both fists into her eyes. "I'm just as wide awake as you are. Oh, why, you're dressed!" "Just found that out?" Joy broke into a laugh, and Gypsy, now quite awake, joined in it merrily. For the first time a vague notion came to her that she was rather glad Joy came.
Breynton, quietly, "then it is no fault of yours, but in every way a suitable and praiseworthy condition of things that you should keep your room looking as I would be ashamed to have a servant's room look, in my house. People are never to blame for what they can't help."
Breynton, when he heard of it; "how can you let the child do such a thing? She will fall off the precipice, or walk right into a bear's den, the first thing." "Oh, I'll trust her," answered her mother, smiling; "and then, Mrs.
"Then she jumped—splash! into the hogshead," continued Winnie, determined to finish. "He is not very well," said Mr. Breynton, gravely, and then they sat down to supper, talking the while about him. Winnie subsided in great disgust, and devoted himself, body, mind, and heart, to the drop-cakes. "Ah, the best china, I see," said Mrs.
Breynton would have preferred sending the children to a private school; but the only one in town, and the one which Gypsy had attended until this term, was broken up by the marriage of the teacher, so she had no choice in the matter.
Breynton had found, and she had read in it many times, until that painful groaning ceased. And so one night it chanced that the old yellow cat sat blinking at the light, and the yellow, furrowed face turned over on the pillow and smiled, and lay still.
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