th the perfume I
love most of all, the night's floating memory of the flowery breath
of day.

Suddenly I felt some one touching my elbow. I turned round. It was
Rhona Boswell. I was amazed to see her, for I thought that all my
Gypsy friends, Boswells, Lovells, and the rest, were still attending
the horse-fairs in the Midlands and Eastern Counties.

'We've only just got here,' said Rhona; 'wussur luck that we got here
at all. I wants to get back to dear Gypsy Dell and Rington Wood;
that's what I wants to do.'

'Where is the camp?' I asked.

'Same place, twix Bettws and Capel Curig.'

She had been to the bungalow, she told me, with a message from Sinfi.
This message was that she particularly wished to meet me at Mrs.
Davies's cottage--'not at the bungalow'--on the following night.

'She'll go there to-morrow mornin',' said Rhona, 'and make things
tidy for you; but she won't expect you till night, same time as she
met you there fust. She's got a key o' the door, she says, wot you
gev her.'

I was not so surprised at Sinfi's proposed place of meeting as I
should have been had I not remembered her resolution not to return
to the bungalow, and not to let me return to the camp.

'You must be sure to go to meet her at the cottage to-morrow night,
else you'll be too late.'

'Why too late?' I asked.

'Well,' said Rhona, 'I can't say as I knows why ezackly. But
I know she's bin' an' bought beautiful dresses at Chester, or
somewheres,--an' I think she's goin' to be married the day arter
to-morrow.'

'Married to whom?'

'Well, I can't say as I rightly knows,' said Rhona.

'Do you know whether Mr. Cyril is in Wales?' I asked.

'Yes,' said Rhona, 'him and the funny un are not far from Capel
Curig. Now I come to think on't, it's mose likely Mr. Cyril as she's
a-goin' to marry, for I know it ain't no Romany chal. It _can't_ be
the funny un,' added she, laughing.

'But where's the wedding to take place?'

'I can't say as I knows ezackly,' said Rhona; 'but I thinks it's by
Knockers' Llyn if it ain't on the top o' Snowdon.'

'Good heavens, girl!' I said. 'What on earth makes you think that?
That pretty little head of yours is stuffed with the wildest
nonsense. I ran make nothing out of you, so good-night. Tell her I'll
be there.'

And I was leaving her to walk down the lane when I turned back and
said, 'How long has Sinfi been at the camp?'

'On'y jist come. She's bin away from us for a long while,' said
Rhona.