ndignantly. "I'll go and ask mother."

She ran down stairs, slamming all the doors, and rushed noisily into the
parlor.

"Oh, mother! Tom's going to camp out with Mr. Guy Hallam, and can't Sarah
and I go, too?"

"Oh, what now?" said Mrs. Breynton, laughing, and laying down her work.

"Only for a week, mother, up Ripton--just think! With a tent and a fire,
and Mr. Hallam to take care of us."

This last remark was a stroke of policy on Gypsy's part, for Tom had come
in, and it touched a bit of boy's pride, of which Gypsy was perfectly
aware he had a good deal.

"As if I couldn't take as good care of you as Guy Hallam, or the next
man!" he said, in an insulted tone.

"Then Tom is willing you should go," observed Mrs. Breynton.

"Why--I don't know," said Tom, who had not intended to commit himself; "I
didn't say so."

"But you will say so--now, there's a dear, good Tom!" said Gypsy, giving
him a soft kiss on one cheek. Gypsy did not very often kiss Tom unless he
asked her, and it was the best argument she could have used; for, though
Tom always pretended to be quite above any interest in such tender
proceedings, yet this rogue of a sister looked so pink and pretty and
merry, with her arms about his neck and her twinkling eyes looking into
his, that there was no resisting her. Gypsy was quite conscious of this
little despotism, and was enough of a diplomatist to reserve it for rare
and important occasions.

"We--ell," said Tom, slowly; "I don't know as I care, if Hallam
doesn't--just for once, you understand; you're not to ask me again as long
as you live."

"There, there!" cried Gypsy, clapping her hands, and jumping up and down.
"Tom, you are a cherub--a wingless cherub. Now, mother!"

"But supposing it rains?" suggested Mrs. Breynton.

"Oh, we'll take our water-proofs."

"The tent will be dry enough," put in Tom, bringing in his forces like a
good soldier, now he was fairly enlisted.

"But if you catch cold and get sick, my dear; Tom won't want to cut short
his excursion to bring you home."

"There's Mr. Fisher, right on top of the mountain; he'd bring me in his
wagon. Besides, I wouldn't be silly enough to get sick."

"But Sarah might."

"Sarah does as I tell her," said Gypsy, significantly. "I should take care
of her."

"But Mrs. Rowe may not be willing Sarah should go, and Mr. Guy Hallam must
be asked, Gypsy."

"Well, but----," persisted Gypsy; "if Mrs. Rowe and Mr. Hallam and
everybody are w