r.

"Friends there?" said the man again.

"N--no, sir," said Gypsy, reluctantly. "I am going to the hotel."

"Stranger in town? What hotel do you go to?"

"I don't know," said Gypsy, hurriedly. The car was just stopping, and she
rose and tried to pass him.

"I will show you the way," he said, standing up, and reeling slightly as
he tried to walk. Gypsy, in despair, looked for the conductor. He was
nowhere to be seen. The crowd passed out, quite careless of the frightened
child, or regarding her only with a curious stare.

"It's only a little way," said the man, with an oath.

"Why, sakes a massy, if this ain't Gypsy Breynton!"

Gypsy turned, with a cry of joy, at hearing her name, and fairly sprang
into Mrs. Surly's arms.

"Why, where on airth did you come from, Gypsy Breynton?"

"I came from Boston, and that man is drunk, and,--oh, dear! I'm so glad to
see you, and I've got to go to a hotel, and I didn't know what mother
would say, and where did you come from?" said Gypsy, talking very fast.

"I come from my sister Lucindy's, down to Bellows Falls, and I'm going to
Cousin Mary Ann Jacobs to spend the night."

"Oh!" said Gypsy, wistfully.

"I don't see how a little gal like you ever come to be on a night train
alone," said Mrs. Surly, with a keen, curious look at Gypsy's face; "but I
know your ma'd never let you go to a hotel this time o' night, and Mary
Ann she'd be delighted to see you; so you'd better come along."

Gypsy was so happy and so thankful, she could fairly have kissed
her,--even her, Mrs. Surly. Cousin Mary Ann received her hospitably, and
the evening and the night passed quickly away. Mrs. Surly was very
curious, and somewhat suspicious on the subject of Gypsy's return to
Yorkbury, under such peculiar circumstances. Gypsy said that she left
Boston quite suddenly, that they were not expecting her at home, and that
she took so late a train for several reasons, but had not thought that it
went no further than Rutland, till she was fairly started; which was true.
More than this, Mrs. Surly could not cross-question out of her, and she
soon gave up trying.

Cousin Mary Ann wanted Mrs. Surly's company another day; so Gypsy took an
early train for Yorkbury alone.

Gypsy never took any trouble very deeply to heart, and the morning
sunlight, and the sight of the dear, familiar mountains, drove away, to a
great extent, the repentant and anxious thoughts of the night.

As the train shrieked into Y