Rain or shine, every Wednesday and Saturday evening found Gyp at the table in the sitting-room at Aunt Judith's cottage, bending over his books.

Aunt Judith, busy with a bit of needlework, looked often at the boy as he bent eagerly over his book, and marvelled that this was the same boy who less than a year ago was a trial to every owner of a garden or orchard.

A puzzled frown puckered his forehead one evening as he worked.

"What is it?" she asked. "Can I help you?"

"Maybe I'll have to let you, but I think I can do it. I'd like to work it out if I can, and I'll try hard before I give up."

For a time he worked in silence, covering his slate with figures.

The clock ticked loudly on the mantel, and seemed to be trying to outdo
Gyp's busy pencil.

"Scratch! Scratch!" went the pencil, and "Tick! Tick!" chirped the little clock, and then the boy looked up, his eyes bright with excitement.

"I've done it, Mrs. Aunt Judith!" he cried, "I've done it, and it's right! You said it was better for me to do everything that I could do, by studying and working, instead of being helped."

"It is better, because you will fully understand what you have done, and you will be more likely to remember it.

"But tell me," she said, laying her hand on his shoulder, "why do you call me Mrs. Aunt Judith?"

He looked frankly up into her face as he answered.

"You aren't my Aunt Judith, tho' I wish you were, so I think I ought to call you something beside the name, so I say Mrs. with it."

"Dear boy, you meant to be respectful," she said, "but you are such a good, hard working boy now that you shall call me 'Aunt Judith' just as the other children do."

He hesitated, and she understood.

"They shall not wonder why you do. I'll tell them that I asked you to," she said.

Without a word he picked up his books, took his old cap, and crossed the room.

Wondering that he did not speak she followed him.

At the door he turned, and looking up at her with eyes in which tears glistened he said:

"I'm going to work with all my might, and I mean to be a decent man, and then I'll do something for you,—Aunt Judith."

"Gyp, come back and let me thank you!" she cried when, after her surprise, she caught her breath, but a fit of his old shyness had come over him, and having said what was in his heart, he had at once raced off across the fields, and soon was out of sight or hearing in the dark woods.

Aunt Judith told Captain Atherton all about Gyp's ambition, of his hard work at school, and the evenings spent at the cottage.

"He is determined to get on, and he says that he will not always live like a gypsy.

"He declares that he will be a decent man," she said, "but will not people be so prejudiced that they will not care to employ him?" she asked.

"No!" cried the captain, "for I will set aside any notions that they may have by employing him myself.

"I will trust him, and this very week I'll tell him so!"

It happened that he met the boy on his way from school.

"How go the lessons, boy?" he asked kindly.

For some reason Gyp was not afraid.

"This is Friday, and I've had every lesson perfect this week. I'm going over to tell Aunt Judith. She'll be glad!"

"Don't you tell the folks at home?" queried Captain Atherton.

"They don't care much," Gyp said with downcast eyes. Then, as if to excuse their lack of interest, he said:

"I guess they don't understand why I'm bound to study."

"I understand, my boy, just why you are working so hard, and I'm proud of you! Come, and tell me about the weeks like this, when things go smoothly, and come just as quickly if things, instead, go roughly. Let me help you over the hard places, Gyp, for when you are out of school I'll employ you. Now, work hard at school, knowing that when you have completed the course you're to be employed by me."

"Oh, sir, I'll work for you with all my strength," cried the grateful boy. "You believe in me, you trust me, and I'll be true!"

"I know you will, Gyp," said Captain Atherton, almost as greatly moved as Gyp himself.

When he reached the cottage, he was almost breathless, so swiftly had he run.

He dropped upon a chair near the door, and told first of the week's work at school, and then of the promise that Captain Atherton had made.

Neither Aunt Judith nor the genial captain knew how close was the tie that bound Gyp to be faithful to them. They had befriended him, and for that he was grateful. They believed in him, and that gave him courage to make persistent effort, but deep in his heart lay the memory of the first kind, caressing words that had ever been said to him.

"She sometimes says 'Dear boy' to me, and he said, 'My boy,'" he would often whisper to himself.

Gyp was now very happy. He was doing good work at school, he had won the respect of teacher and pupils.

Now Aunt Judith was interested in him, Captain Atherton believed in him, and oh, pleasant promise, the kindly captain would prove his faith by employing him!

"Folks in Avondale will have to think I'm something more decent than a gypsy!" he said.

* * * * * * * *

The days were growing longer, the warm sun had chased away the last bit of ice, and now the fields were green, and the trees and shrubs were showing fine foliage.

In the gardens the early blossoms made soft color that told how soon the summer would appear.

Princess Polly sat waiting for Rose, and Sprite.

The soft breeze stirred the leaves, making them rustle as if they were whispering to each other the great news that summer would soon reach Avondale.

Polly turned to look toward the avenue. They were not in sight.

"I might walk over to call for them," she thought.

Then she remembered that she had promised to wait at a spot where they had often met, and from which they were now to set out for a walk.

"Why don't they come?" she said aloud.

A long time she sat waiting for her playmates to appear. At last a shout made her turn.

"Did you think we were never coming?" cried Rose.

"Oh, she must have thought just that," said Sprite, "so tell her what it was that kept us."

"Polly has been waiting so long, we'll start for our walk, and I'll tell the news as we go along," said Rose.

"Then let's hurry," said Polly, "because I'm wild to know what it was."

The three little friends tramped along the path that was always their favorite for a walk, and when they had reached a spot where a brook was spanned by a tiny bridge, they sat down to rest. It was then that Rose turned toward Polly.

"I'm not going to ask you to guess who was at our house, or why I could not meet you at two, as I promised, because you never could guess that, so I'll tell you. It was,—Great Aunt Rose!"

"Oh, Rose, why did she come?" Polly gasped. "Not to take you back with her!"

"That's just what I said, when I heard that she was in the parlor," said Sprite.

"Well, when I saw her carriage coming up the avenue," Rose said, "the shivers went up and down my back, but Uncle John, when he got up to go in to see her, stooped and whispered in my ear: 'Don't be frightened, little girl, for remember that you now belong to me, and I shall not easily give you up. Now, come in with me, dear. You know I can not refuse to let her see you.'

"So he took my hand, and we went in together.

"Great Aunt Rose sat stiff and prim in the center of the sofa.

"'How do you do, Aunt Rose?' I said, but she kept looking at me without speaking.

"'Doesn't Rose look as if the air at Avondale had done her a world of good?' Uncle John asked.

"'Really, John, I'm not sure,' Aunt Rose said, looking at me through her glasses, just as if I were a queer bug, or butterfly such as she'd never seen before. Uncle John looked vexed.

"'You certainly see that her cheeks are rosy, and she is rounder than when she first came to me,' he said.

"That's what I was thinking of,' she said, 'and when she was at our home, she was more delicate in her appearance. More slender, and pale, as an Atherton should be.

"'No "Rose Atherton" ever was what country people call "buxom"! I'm not countrified!' I said, half expecting to be scolded, but Uncle John put his arm around me, and drew me closer as he said:

"'Indeed you are not, unless fresh color, and dimples, mean countrified, when I should think the term a compliment.' Then he turned to Great Aunt Rose.

"'I have endeavored, ever since I have had little Rose under my care, to keep her much in the open air, and she has gained strength from sunshine and breeze,' he said.

"'I knew it! I knew it!' she said, springing from the sofa, and looking dreadfully excited, 'and that is the reason for my call. You'll have her tanned with the sun, and her complexion ruined by the wind, and she'll look like anything but an Atherton by the time she's a young lady!

"'You must let her return to the old Atherton house with me, and in its quiet, refining influence she will regain the delicate appearance that was so charming.

"'Rose, will you come with me?'

"She put out her hand as if she meant to take me, whether I wanted to go with her or not, and for the moment I forgot that Uncle John was big enough, and brave enough, to keep me with him.

"I screamed, and ran from the room, and oh, I know it was rude, and I'm afraid unkind, but I didn't stop to think, and just kept on running until I found Sprite waiting for me at the gate."

"And she clasped my hand," said Sprite, continuing the story, "and she never told me a word of all this, but, instead, she said: 'Come quick! Oh, come quick!' and together we raced along until we met you, Polly.

"Wasn't it funny? Rose knew why we were running, but I didn't. I ran because she told me to, and I had to, to keep up with her!"

Princess Polly looked thoughtful. "You don't really believe she could make you live with her again, do you?" she asked.

"Oh, Rose, you haven't but just begun to live at Avondale!"

"Uncle John said she'd not easily get me away from him," Rose said, "and it may be that I needn't have been so frightened, but I feel better out here, and I'll stay out until I know that she must have gone home. Come! We won't let it spoil our fun. We'll have a fine long walk, and when I get back, Great Aunt Rose will have surely gone."

One part of the road over which they walked was bordered on either side by white birches. Yet a bit farther willows took the place of birches, and there they left the road to cross the meadows, coming out into the bright sunlight.

The three little playmates had walked rapidly, and now began to slacken their pace, and when they reached a clump of trees, they sat down to enjoy the cool shade, and to talk for a while.

"You'll be happier, Rose, if we talk of something else," said Polly, "so I'll tell you that Sir Mortimer is strutting around our garden this morning with a new collar that I bought for him, and the big pink satin bow upon it is very becoming."

"And I'll tell a bit of news. I sent my prize right straight to the 'Mermaid's Cave,'" said Sprite, "and pa put it in the Cliffmore bank for me."

"Why, Sprite Seaford!" cried Rose. "How did you dare to send fifty dollars in gold?"

"Because," said Sprite, "I didn't send it by mail. I gave it to one of the very best men in this world, and that is Uncle John, to take it to pa for me, and he did. He rode over to Cliffmore last Saturday. That's a week ago, and don't you know it was a stormy day? Well, that's why we didn't go with him."

Sprite nodded her head wisely as she spoke, and the sunbeams danced on her rippling hair.

"And I'll tell you something I've thought of," she said. "It was Friday after school that I asked him about sending it, and he said we'd all take the trip to Cliffmore. And when Saturday came it was so stormy we couldn't go. I didn't say a thing, but I must have looked disappointed, for he said: 'Cheer up, little Sprite, for your prize shall reach Cliffmore to-day. I'm going over there, and I'll take it with me.'

"Now I believe he wouldn't have gone so far on such a day for himself. I think he went for me."

"It would be just like Uncle John to do that," Rose said. "He's always doing something to make people happy."

As if to prove that his little niece spoke truly, he now appeared on the road in his big motor car, laughing when he espied the three playmates, and gaily calling:

"Has anyone seen a small girl straying around this part of Avondale?
Girl with brown curls, and rosy cheeks, answers to the name of Rose?"

"You needn't laugh, Uncle John, for truly I was afraid Great Aunt Rose would try to make you say that I must spend, at least, a part of my time with her, and oh, I didn't want to."

"Do I look as if anyone could make me give up what I considered mine?"

"No, no!" they cried in chorus.

"Then climb into my car, you three little tramps, and I'll take you for a ride."