them down, in school parlance, as "jolly kids". The
rest of the family she hoped would prove equally interesting.

Poor Gipsy heaved many a sigh as she packed her box. Her outfit seemed
such a very shabby one with which to go a-visiting, and she hoped Mrs.
Gordon would not feel ashamed of her guest. At the last moment Miss
Edith, looking rather guilty and self-conscious, popped hastily into the
bedroom and thrust a small parcel into her hand.

"It's a little present, Gipsy dear," she said nervously, "just some new
hair ribbons and a pair of gloves and a tie. You've no need to tell Miss
Poppleton or anybody that I gave them to you. Don't thank me--I'd rather
you didn't! I do hope you'll enjoy yourself, you poor child!"

"Oh, Miss Edie! If a letter should happen to come for me from South
Africa while I'm away, you'd send it on, wouldn't you?" asked Gipsy
wistfully.

"I'd bring it myself, at once," returned Miss Edith, as she scuttled out
of the room in a desperate hurry.

Mrs. Gordon sent a cab to Briarcroft on breaking-up day, and when
Gipsy's box had been placed on the top, Meg, Eppie, and Molly bore away
their guest with great rejoicing. The Gordons lived at an old-fashioned
house about a mile from the school. It seemed quite in the country, with
fields all round, and had an orchard and large garden, a pond, an
asphalted tennis court for wet weather, as well as a grass one, and a
croquet lawn.

Mrs. Gordon welcomed Gipsy most kindly, and at once made her feel at
home, and the remainder of the family were introduced by degrees. Mr.
Gordon, a jovial, genial man, greeted her with a humorous twinkle in
his eye.

"So this is Meg's idol! Glad to see you, my dear!" he remarked. "If you
can cure Meg of standing on one leg and puckering up her mouth when she
talks, I'll be grateful. She seems disposed to listen to you in
preference to anyone here, so please act mentor."

"Oh, Dad! Don't be naughty!" shrieked Meg. "What will Gipsy think of
you?"

"A favourable opinion, I trust," laughed Mr. Gordon, as he vanished into
his own particular sanctum.

Donald, Meg's elder brother, seemed disposed to be friendly; but Billy,
the twelve-year-old offender who had started the family with measles,
was afflicted with shyness, and preferred to inspect the visitor from
afar until he grew accustomed to her presence. Rob, the youngest, a
roguish laddie of six, fell openly in love with Gipsy at first sight,
and prepared to monopoliz