ff at a furious gallop round the meadow. That Gipsy managed
to stick on to its back even she herself afterwards confessed was almost
a miracle, but she kept her seat somehow. Up and down the field fled her
steed in furious career, till, tired of galloping, it changed its
tactics and stood still and kicked, when Gipsy seized the opportunity of
sliding to the ground. She just escaped its hoofs as, relieved of her
weight, it scampered off to the farthest limit of the boundary fence.
Very dishevelled and rather bruised and shaky, she picked herself up
from the muddy spot where she had fallen, and limped back to the
palings. The girls cheered. They couldn't help themselves, even though
Miss Poppleton was present.

"She's as good as a cowboy!" exclaimed Lennie.

"Or a circus rider!" added Hetty proudly.

"Well done, Gipsy!"

"Bravo!"

Miss Poppleton, however, did not share the popular enthusiasm, and
received her adventurous pupil with a scolding instead of
congratulations.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Gipsy Latimer," she said sternly.
"It's a mercy you were not killed. Understand once for all that I forbid
such mad proceedings. If you have hurt your leg you had better go
indoors. The sooner you learn that these are not Briarcroft ways, the
better. This is a school for young ladies, not young hoydens!"

Slightly abashed, Gipsy beat a retreat to the house, where Miss Edith,
who had been an agitated spectator from the linen-room window, bathed
the wounded leg, put arnica on the bruises, and comforted the sufferer,
while she proffered good advice.

"It was very naughty of you, you know, Gipsy dear!" she said in her
kind-hearted, deprecating manner. "I don't know anything about riding,
but it looked most dangerous, and of course, if Miss Poppleton said it
was wrong, it was wrong. My sister is always right. Please remember
that. Why, child, you're all trembling! I'll make you a cup of Bovril,
and you must lie down on your bed for an hour. And promise me faithfully
you'll never do such a foolish, silly, mad thing again! We want to hand
you over to your father in good health when he comes to fetch you, and
he'd blame us if you were hurt."

"He knows me only too well," twinkled Gipsy. "But there--I'll promise
anything you like, dear Miss Edith! Yes, the bruises feel better now,
and the Bovril would be delicious. And you're a darling! Let me give you
one hug, and I'll lie down like a monument of patience, though I