"All right; just hint what it is, will you? and I'll have you out of it in a twinkling."
"Read that," said the squire, placing the mysterious letter in her hand.
Gipsy read it, and then exclaimed:
"Well, there's some mystery here—that's certain. But you can't go, can you, Guardy?"
"To be sure I can't. You might as well expect Mrs. Gower, there, to dance the double shuffle, as expect me to go on such a journey."
"Well, Spider's not to know of it, and he couldn't go if he did, with his dilapidated continuations; Aunty Liz can't travel and lie asleep on a sofa at the same time; and Aunty Gower, poor woman! can't travel up stairs, under half an hour's panting and groaning; so none of them can go, that's demonstrated—as old Mr. Blackboard used to say. Eh! Guardy?"
"Yes, yes. But what's to be done?"
"Why, it's very clear what's to be done. I'll go!"
"You," said the squire, with a stare. "What good can you do?"
"Come, now! I like that! I'll leave it to everybody, if I'm not worth the whole of you put together. Ain't I, now?"