CHAPTER XIX.
GIPSY'S DARING.
"It is a fearful night; a feeble glare
Streams from the sick moon in the overclouded sky,
The ridgy billows, with a mighty cry,
Rush on the foamy beaches wild and bare.
What bark the madness of the waves will dare!"
—Byron.
ipsy was once more at Sunset Hall. Archie had escorted her home and then returned to Washington. He would have mentioned their engagement to the squire, and asked his consent to their union, but Gipsy said:
"No, you mustn't. I hate a fuss; and as I don't intend to be married for two or three years yet, it will be time enough to tell them all by and by."
So Archie, with a sigh, was forced to obey his capricious little love and go back, after making her promise to let him come down every month and see her; for she wouldn't write to him—it was "too much bother."
It began again to seem like old times at St. Mark's. There was Gipsy at Sunset Hall, keeping them all from dying of torpor, and astonishing the whole neighborhood by her mad freaks. There was Minnette—the proud, cold, but now beautiful Minnette—living alone at Deep Dale; for the doctor had gone from home on business. There was sweet Celeste, the Star of the Valley, in her little cottage home—the fairest, loveliest maiden the sun ever shone upon.