. Poor Miss Edith was generally torn in two between strict
loyalty to her sister and the promptings of her own kind heart. She knew
the cause of Gipsy's trouble well enough. She sat down beside the
forlorn child, and comforted her as best she could.

"I wish Dad would write! Oh, he can't have forgotten me! I wish I'd
anybody to go to; I haven't a soul nearer than New Zealand!" wailed
Gipsy.

"You mustn't make yourself so miserable, Gipsy dear!" said Miss Edith
nervously. "I'm sure Miss Poppleton will keep you here for a while, and
perhaps your father will write after all. My sister will do everything
that's right--she always does. Oh, don't sob so, child! She'll see that
you're taken care of. Do try to cheer up, that's a dear! You must trust
Miss Poppleton, Gipsy. There, there! You'll feel better now you've had a
good cry. Wash your face in cold water, and take a run round the garden.
It's a good thing it's Saturday!"

Gipsy didn't feel equally confident of Miss Poppleton's benevolence, but
she gave Miss Edith a hug, and took her advice. She had not lost faith
in her father, only his silence made her fear for his welfare. She was
aware of the many dangers of life in the rough mining camps where his
work lay, and shuddered as she remembered his tales of attacks by
desperadoes, skirmishes with natives, or perils of wild beasts. Almost
directly, however, her naturally cheerful and hopeful disposition
reasserted itself. She knew letters sometimes miscarried or were lost,
or perhaps her father might have been ill and unable to write.

"He'll let me hear about him somehow," she said to herself. "I must just
try and be very patient. Dad desert me! Why, the idea's ridiculous. And
I've a feeling I'd know if he was dead. No! He's alive somewhere and
thinking of me, and it will all come right in the end. His very last
words were: 'I'll soon be back to fetch you!' I mustn't let folks at the
school think I don't believe in Dad. That would never do! I'll show them
how I can trust him!"

True to her intention of vindicating her faith in her father, Gipsy,
after the first outburst of tears, took a pride in concealing her
feelings, and preserving at least an outward appearance of calm
confidence. It certainly needed all her courage to face the situation,
for there were several circumstances which rendered it peculiarly
trying. Miss Poppleton, with whom she had never been a favourite,
snapped at her more frequently than before, and