itude. A cheerful fire of
sticks burned near, over which a tripod supported a black pot.

The sunset light filtered golden through the forest. It was growing
late.

Suddenly he turned and called over his shoulder. "I say, Chirpy!"

Ernestine's voice answered from the further end of the caravan that was
shut off from the rest by curtains.

"I'm just coming. What is it? Is the pot all right?"

"Splendid. Be quick! I've something to show you."

The curtains parted, and Ernestine came daintily forth.

Rivington barely glanced at her. He was too intent upon the paper in his
hand. She stopped behind him, and bent to read the paragraph he pointed
out.

After a pause, he turned to view its effect, and on the instant his
eyebrows went up in amazement.

"Hullo!" he said.

She was dressed like a gipsy in every detail, even to the scarlet
kerchief on her head. She drew back a little, colouring under his
scrutiny.

"I hope you approve," she said.

"By Jove, you look ripping!" said Rivington. "How in the world did you
do it?"

"I made Mrs. Perkiss help me. We managed it between us. It was just a
fancy of mine to fill the idle hours. I didn't think I should ever have
the courage to wear it."

He reached up his hand to her as he sat.

"My dear, you make a charming gipsy," he said. "You will have to sit for
me."

She laughed, touched his hand with a hint of shyness, and stepped down
beside him.

"How is the supper getting on? Have you looked at it?"

He laid aside his paper to prepare for the meal. To her evident relief
he made no further comment at the moment upon her appearance. But when
supper was over and he was smoking his evening pipe, his eyes dwelt upon
her continually as she flitted to and fro, having declined his
assistance, and set everything in order after the meal.

The sun had disappeared, and a deep dusk was falling upon the forest.
Ernestine moved, elf-like, in the light of the sinking fire. She took no
notice of the man who watched her, being plainly too busy to heed his
attention.

But her duties were over at last, and she turned from the ruddy
firelight and moved, half reluctantly it seemed, towards him. She
reached him, and stood before him.

"I've done now," she said. "You can rake out the fire. Good-night!"

He took the little hand in his.

"Are you tired, Chirpy?"

"No, I don't think so." She sounded slightly doubtful.

"Won't you stay with me for a little?" he said. She stood si