"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.