A sketching club among the artistically disposed members of the Lower School met with some response, especially as it developed into a monthly competition. Gipsy boldly begged some attractive prints from the drawing mistress to serve as prizes, and, having chosen a subject to be illustrated, pinned up the various attempts, signed with pseudonyms, and took the voting of the whole of the Juniors to decide the awards—an exciting occasion which everybody considered worthy of repetition. Gipsy's restless, energetic temperament was her salvation at this particular crisis of her career. If she had allowed herself to brood over her troubles, she would have been wretched indeed; but by throwing herself heartily into schemes for the general good of the community she succeeded in being, if not exactly happy, at any rate a useful and cheerful addition to the school.
The Sale of Work took place in March, and though she had not a single penny to spend on it, she contributed excellent service in other ways. She was indefatigable in assisting to arrange stalls, write programmes, or do any of the necessary drudgery that a bazaar always entails. Even the Seniors acknowledged her helpfulness, and Helen Roper admitted that "if one wanted a thing done quickly, Gipsy Latimer was worth a dozen of those other kids". In the matter of the Sale of Work the hatchet had been buried between the Upper and the Lower Schools, and both co-operated to make the affair a success. Now that the rights of the Juniors were fully established, and their claims to consideration recognized, Gipsy was only too pleased to help the older girls, and ran about holding step-ladders, handing tacks, fetching articles wanted, and generally doing odd jobs. Encouraged by the conciliatory attitude of the Seniors, she ventured to propose a scheme suggested by her foreign experience.
"Why shouldn't we turn the tea-room into a café chantant?" she said. "We should get far more money in that way than if people only went in for refreshments. Charge them an admission, and then tea extra. They'll stay far longer, and take more things, if music and singing are going on all the time. It's really better than a separate concert, too, because you can't always get people to go to the concerts, but hardly anyone can resist tea at four o'clock."
After talking it over, the Seniors were graciously pleased to adopt Gipsy's idea, and began to draw up a programme for the café chantant. Their struggle of the past had taught them a lesson in fair play, and they therefore proposed to admit a certain number of Juniors as performers, instead of, as formerly, keeping the whole thing in their own hands.
"I've put you down for two solos, Gipsy Latimer," said Helen Roper magnanimously. "What would you like to sing?"
Gipsy thought for a moment before she replied:
"I wonder if it would be possible to borrow a banjo? I used to play one out in America, and I know some very pretty Creole songs, and one or two Spanish ones."
"My brother has a banjo that he'd lend, I'm sure," said Lena Morris.
"Good! We'll rig you out as a Spanish gipsy," agreed Helen. "There are lots of things in our dramatic property box that would come in. You'd look the part no end!"
"I'll send the banjo this evening, so that you can practise it," volunteered Lena.