ake, and as she did so there fell from
the pocket an unopened letter. She picked it up and looked at the
address:

"MISS GIPSY LATIMER,
Briarcroft Hall,
Greyfield,
England."

She read it twice before she realized its significance. Then, trembling
violently, she sank on to a chair, and gave way to what very closely
resembled a fit Of hysteria.

"Fetch Miss Poppleton!" she cried to the alarmed servant who ran to the
linen room at the sound of her wails. "Oh, dear! To think it's all my
fault!"

Miss Poppleton hurried to the scene at once, and though at first her
sister's explanation was rather incoherent, she managed to grasp the
main facts of the case.

"It's Gipsy's missing letter, Dorothea! It must have come after all, you
see, only I can't imagine how it got into Daisy Scatcherd's pocket. I
don't remember looking in the pockets when I put the coat by. And it's
been there all this time! Look, the postmark is Cape Town, 3 November.
Oh, isn't it dreadful? And the poor, dear child has just run away!
Dorothea, whatever are we to do about it?" moaned Miss Edith, almost
beside herself with horror at her discovery.

"In the circumstances I consider I am perfectly justified in reading the
letter," replied Miss Poppleton, solemnly tearing open the envelope.
"Why, here's an enclosure for me inside it!"

The long-delayed missive was from Gipsy's father, and contained the very
information for which Miss Poppleton had waited more than six weary
months. Mr. Latimer informed her that he was on the point of starting
with a pioneering expedition to prospect for minerals in the almost
unexplored district at the sources of one of the tributaries of the
Zambesi. It might be several months before he would be in any civilized
place whence it would be possible for him to communicate with her again,
but during his absence he was glad to know that his little daughter was
left in good hands. For all expenses in connection with Gipsy's
education, dress, and pocket-money, he begged to refer her to his London
bankers, Messrs. Hall & Co. of Lombard Street, who had instructions to
settle the account as soon as submitted to them.

"I hope my girlie will behave well, and give no trouble," he wrote. "She
is generally ready to attach herself to anybody who is kind to her."

Miss Poppleton turned a dull crimson as she finished reading the letter,
and