"Well, he can come over another day. As long as you do not get into any mischief, I don't mind him being with you."
So this was the beginning of many delightful days, and the holidays slipped by so fast that the little girls were quite sorry to think that lessons would soon begin again.
One afternoon, Faith was making a frock for one of her dolls. It had been raining. She was in the schoolroom alone. Charity and Hope were helping their aunt to make jam in the kitchen. Suddenly the schoolroom door opened and Hope dashed in.
"Faith, quick, come! There's a boy at the gate wants to see you, and he has such a beautiful big grey donkey."
Faith ran out of the house down to the gate. Then her face lighted up in pleased recognition.
"Why, it's Dan," she cried, "the gipsy boy who spilled his milk! How is your mother, Dan?"
"Dead," he said, meeting Faith's gaze very bravely.
Faith was quite shocked.
"Folks never left us alone," the boy said sadly. "They hustled mother into Infirmary, and then us heard father were shot dead, and we sold the van, and mother she said to me:"
"'I'd like that little girl to have Topsy. Take her to her, and tell her I'm dyin' happy—and don't forget what she telled me.'"