"What's she going to do?" asked Gipsy with apprehension.
"I don't know—she didn't condescend to tell us."
"Look here, I'm sick of the whole business!" said Gipsy bitterly. "I'm not wanted at Briarcroft. Poppie'd be only too delighted to get rid of me. I'm not going to stay here any longer to be ordered about and scolded, and accused of things I've never done. I'll run away. If you can climb up the greenhouse roof, I can climb down it."
"Oh, Gipsy! Where will you go? Come to us! We'd hide you somewhere at home, and Mother wouldn't give you up to Poppie, I know!"
But Gipsy shook her head emphatically. The very fact of the Gordons' kindness made it impossible for her to trespass upon their generosity. She knew that if she were to seek sanctuary at their house, she would place Mrs. Gordon in a most awkward and difficult position, and her natural delicacy of feeling caused her to shrink from such a course. It would be a poor return indeed for their former hospitality.
"No, Meg; it's awfully good of you, but I must go farther away than that. I'm off to Liverpool. Don't look so staggered; I've quite made up my mind!"
"Liverpool! Why, that's miles and miles away! How will you go? And what will you do when you get there?"
"I shall manage somehow to sell my watch. It's a gold one, you know, so it ought to be worth enough to pay my railway fare, at any rate. It belonged to my mother, and I wouldn't have parted with it under any other circumstances than these. Thank goodness I put it on this morning! I don't wear it always. When I get to Liverpool I have a plan. Captain Smith—the captain of the vessel we were wrecked on—lives at a suburb called Waterloo. I'll enquire and enquire till I find the house. If he's at home, it's just possible that he could give me some little hint about my father. Dad might have dropped something in talking to him that he did not tell to me. I believe Captain Smith would help me if he could."
"But suppose he's gone to sea again?"
"That's quite likely. I've thought of that too. Well, I mean to go to some of the shipping offices, and see if they'll give me a post on a South African liner as assistant stewardess. Don't look so frightfully aghast! It's work I could do very well, though it wouldn't be pleasant. I've travelled so much about the world that I'm absolutely at home on board ship. I know all the ins and outs of voyaging, and I'm a splendid sailor, never seasick in the least. I could make myself most uncommonly useful. I'd buy a packet of hairpins and tuck up my hair so that I'd look much older, and I believe they'd engage me, because it's so difficult sometimes to meet with assistant stewardesses. I'm nearly fifteen now, and I'd rather earn my own living like that than stay here at Briarcroft on Poppie's charity. American and Colonial girls are never ashamed to work. When I get out to Cape Town, I'll go to the headmistress of the school where I stopped three months. She was a trump, and I believe she'd help me to find Dad."