“I am,” interjected Miss Campbell fervently.
So it happened that Richard Hook went ambling off into the twilight on old Dobbin while Maggie Hook and her friend, Amy Swinnerton, made Miss Campbell comfortable in the van and prepared to cook supper.
“And you are not Gypsies after all?” asked the little lady, watching one of the girls light a bracket lamp on the wall of the van.
“No, indeed,” laughed Maggie Hook. “Not by birth at least, but I think we have something of the Gypsy spirit because we love to spend our summers in this way. Have you never seen a van?”
Miss Campbell could not say that she had and looked about her with much interest.
“These are our beds, you see,” Amy explained. “The top one folds up and we use the lower one for a divan. Richard sleeps in a tent. This is the dressing room,” she continued with as much pride as a custodian showing a sightseer over an ancient castle.
A little space had been curtained off in the back and behind this hung a mirror over a small dressing table, and a row of hooks for clothes.
“And this is your kitchen?” asked Miss Campbell, indicating a row of plates and cups on a plate rack and a small kerosene stove, at one side opposite the beds.
“That and a chafing dish and a camp fire,” answered Maggie Hook. “But we mostly prefer the fire. I’ll get things started here to-night and when Richard comes he can make us a fire if he dares. I believe the laws around here are pretty strict about fires.”
“Well, my dears, it is assuredly the most complete and delightful little traveling home I ever saw,” exclaimed Miss Campbell, after she had looked over the entire van and then seated herself in a rocking chair to watch preparations for supper. It did not take long for her to make friends with these nice young girls who were indeed about the age of her own charges.