Ernestine's voice answered from the further end of the caravan that was shut off from the rest by curtains.
"I'm just coming. What is it? Is the pot all right?"
"Splendid. Be quick! I've something to show you."
The curtains parted, and Ernestine came daintily forth.
Rivington barely glanced at her. He was too intent upon the paper in his hand. She stopped behind him, and bent to read the paragraph he pointed out.
After a pause, he turned to view its effect, and on the instant his eyebrows went up in amazement.
"Hullo!" he said.
She was dressed like a gipsy in every detail, even to the scarlet kerchief on her head. She drew back a little, colouring under his scrutiny.
"I hope you approve," she said.
"By Jove, you look ripping!" said Rivington. "How in the world did you do it?"