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Updated: September 16, 2025
Burt's iron-gray colt down," which was true enough. Gypsy was used to riding, and perfectly fearless. "But Joy hasn't ridden much, and I should never forgive myself if any accident happened to her while her father is gone." "Joy can ride Billy. There isn't a cow in Yorkbury safer." Mrs. Breynton sipped her tea and thought about it.
As the train shrieked into Yorkbury, she forgot everything but that she was at home, miles away from Boston, her mother near, and Tom, and the dear old days of paddling about on rafts, and having no dinner-parties to disgrace herself at, and no aunt to be afraid of. It seemed as if every one she knew were at the station. Mr.
They had come now to the village, where were the stores and the post-office, the bank, and some handsome dwelling-houses. Also the one paved sidewalk of Yorkbury, whereon the young people did their promenading after school in the afternoon. Joy always fancied coming here, gay in her white chenille and white ribbons, and dainty parasol lined with white silk.
His pleasures and ambitions run in different directions from the girls; there is less clashing of interests. Besides this, Gypsy's playmates in Yorkbury, as has been said, had not chanced to be girls of very strong wills.
Bright carpets, and curtains, furniture, pictures, and ornaments covered the length of two parlors separated only by folding-doors, and mirrors, that reached from the floor to the ceiling, reflected her figure full length, as she stood in the midst of the magnificence, in her Yorkbury hat and homemade casaque. "Sit down, sit down," said her uncle; "I'll call your aunt.
Guy Hallam had no objections. Sarah was delighted, Gypsy radiant, Tom patronizing, and Winnie envious, and so, amid a pleasant little bustle, the preparations began, and one sunny morning the party stowed themselves and their baggage comfortably away in Mr. Ripton was a long ride from Yorkbury, and the wagon was somewhat crowded, owing to the presence of Mr.
"Boston is a somewhat bigger village than Yorkbury, I suppose! How's your father? Why didn't he come with you? Is your mother well? And that boy Linnie Silly what do call him?" "Winnie, sir; and then there's Tom." "Winnie oh, yes! Tom well, too?"
Breynton had been on the continual worry about her ever since they left Yorkbury, afraid she would catch cold in the draft, lose her glove out of the window, go out on the platform, or fall in stepping from car to car, Gypsy did not pay the immediate heed to his warning that she ought to have done.
There was much washing and mending and altering, sewing on of trimmings and letting down of tucks, to be done for her; for Mrs. Breynton desired to spare her the discomfort of feeling "countrified," and Yorkbury style was not distinctively a la Paris.
"Yes, I see," said Peace, musingly. Peace always seemed to see just what other people were living and hoping and fearing, without any words from them to explain it. "It's all so different from what it is here. I don't want to forget what you've told me and Auntie's told me. Almost everybody I know at home doesn't care for what you do up here in Yorkbury.
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