deed, it is more than that! For is it not thirty
years since the publication of her memoirs? And was she, at that time,
possibly sixteen? Forty-six years? Incredible! How in the world did
Gypsy "grow up?" For that was before toboggans and telephones, before
bicycles and electric cars, before bangs and puffed sleeves, before
girls studied Greek, and golf-capes came in. Did she go to college? For
the Annex, and Smith, and Wellesley were not. Did she have a career? Or
take a husband? Did she edit a Quarterly Review, or sing a baby to
sleep? Did she write poetry, or make pies? Did she practice medicine, or
matrimony? Who knows? Not even the author of her being.

Only one thing I do know: Gypsy never grew up to be "timid," or silly,
or mean, or lazy; but a sensible woman, true and strong; asking little
help of other people, but giving much; an honor to her brave and loving
sex, and a safe comrade to the girls who kept step with her into middle
life; and I trust that I may bespeak from their daughters and their
scholars a kindly welcome to an old story, told again.

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps.

Newton Centre, Mass.,
_April, 1895._

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER I NEWS 7
CHAPTER II SHE SHALL COME? 24
CHAPTER III ONE EVENING 40
CHAPTER IV CHESTNUTS 54
CHAPTER V GYPSY MAKES A DISCOVERY 82
CHAPTER VI WHO PUT IT IN? 99
CHAPTER VII PEACE MAYTHORNE'S ROOM 122
CHAPTER VIII THE STORY OF A NIGHT 148
CHAPTER IX UP RATTLESNAKE 187
CHAPTER X WE ARE LOST 211
CHAPTER XI GRAND TIMES 229
CHAPTER XII A TELEGRAM 243
CHAPTER XIII A SUNDAY NIGHT 263
CHAPTER XIV GOOD BYE 274

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GYPSY'S COUSIN JOY

CHAPTER I

NEWS

The second arithmetic class had just come out to recite, when somebody
knocked at the door. Miss Cardrew sent Delia Guest to open it.

"It's a--ha, ha! letter--he, he! for you," said Delia, coming up to
the desk. Exactly wherein lay the joke, in the fact that Miss Cardrew
should have a letter, nobody but Delia was capable of seeing; but Delia
was gi