“That’s a long time,” said Gypsy, shaking her head; “I wouldn’t trust myself two inches. To-morrow I shall be in a hurry to go to school; then I shall be in a hurry to go to dinner; then I shall be in a terrible hurry to get off with Sarah Rowe, and so it goes. However, I’ll see. I feel, to-night, precisely as if I should never want to take a single pin out of those little black squares I’ve put them into on the cushion.”
Gypsy found herself in a hurry the next day and the next, and is likely to, to the end of her life, I am afraid. But she seemed to have taken a little gasp of order, and for a long time no one had any complaint to make of Gypsy’s room or Gypsy’s toilet.
Chapter III
MISS MELVILLE’S VISITOR
As will be readily supposed, Gypsy’s name was not her original one; though it might have been, for there have been actual Billys and Sallys, who began and ended Billys and Sallys only.
Gypsy’s real name was an uncouth one—Jemima. It was partly for this reason, partly for its singular appropriateness, that her nickname had entirely transplanted the lawful and ugly one.