CHAPTER XII
A Spartan Maiden
The Spring Term was passing rapidly, and Gipsy had now been nearly six months at Briarcroft. It felt a very, very long time to her since the first evening when she had introduced herself in so sprightly a fashion to her fellow boarders, and had given them a graphic account of the shipwreck. The old Gipsy of last October and the new Gipsy of the present March seemed like two different people, with a whole world of experience to divide them. The well-conducted regime of Briarcroft had had its due effect, and had considerably toned down her unconventional Colonial ways; while the trouble through which she was passing, like all seasons of adversity, had made her older and more thoughtful than before. There was still no news of any kind from her father, and no answer had yet been received from the cousins in New Zealand. Miss Poppleton's manner towards Gipsy hardened a little more each week that mail day arrived and brought no solution of the problem where her school fees were to come from. At present her attitude was that of grim acceptance of a most unwelcome burden. She was not actively unkind, and no doubt thought she was behaving very generously in keeping Gipsy at Briarcroft at all, but in a variety of small ways she made the girl feel the humiliation of her position.
To poor Gipsy the difficulties appeared to accumulate more and more. The clothes which her father had bought for her in Liverpool were fast wearing out, and there seemed not the slightest prospect of renewing any of them. In a school where the girls were always well, if simply dressed, it was not pleasant to be the only one in worn skirts, washed-out blouses, patched boots, mended gloves, and faded hair ribbons. Gipsy had never before been stinted in either clothing or pocket-money, and it hurt her pride sorely. But in spite of her shabby attire she looked a distinguished little figure, with her straight, upright habit of carriage, and quick alertness of manner. The sadness in her dark eyes gave her a new dignity, and though a few girls might pass ill-natured remarks about her clothes, her general prestige in the school remained the same. There was an individuality about Gipsy which marked her out, and raised her above the ordinary level. She was full of original ideas, and had a persuasive way of stating her views that invariably won her a following. The girls were becoming accustomed to consult her on any important topic, and tacitly if not openly regarded her as the Captain of the Lower School. With some the fact that she was "down on her luck" invested her with a flavour of romance, more especially as she was very reserved on the subject.
"I never dare ask Gipsy a word about her father," said Hetty Hancock. "She shuts up like an oyster if one throws out the faintest hint."
"Do you think she still believes in him?" queried Mary Parsons.
"Rather! And I admire her for it. She's shown splendid spirit all this time, and never once given in. She's a real Spartan."
"Yes, Gipsy's as game as can be," commented Dilys. "She never looks beaten, however hard Poppie snubs her, and Poppie's just abominable sometimes."
"I'm often dying to help Gipsy," said Hetty. "But one can't help her. She'd be desperately offended if one offered to lend her pocket-money, or anything."