"I'd never be so mean as to eat it all myself. I'll share it round evenly to the last crumb. Now, if you want to help, you may measure out three cupfuls of sugar, and three-quarters of a cupful of milk. Now this tablespoonful of b.u.t.ter. Yes, that's all, thanks. Somebody pull that fender away, please; I want to get to the fire."

Stolen waters are sweet, and schoolgirl nature is the same the whole world over. The Junior boarders all had more than a suspicion that Gipsy's cookery was unauthorized, but who could resist the attractions of toffee making?

"I hope it's a sort that goes cold quickly, and won't take till next morning to harden," said Dilys Fenton. "Last 5th of November I think we didn't boil ours quite long enough, and we really couldn't wait, so we ate it soft."

"You boil this till it threads from the spoon, and then you beat it with a fork till it creams," murmured Gipsy, with her head over the pan.

"Let me stir!" begged Pamela Harvey.

"You mustn't stir it. That's the secret of good Fudge-making, not to stir at all while it's boiling. It makes it coa.r.s.e-grained if you do."

"Won't it burn, though?"

"It doesn't out in U.S.A. But then we make it on stoves, you see. I can't guarantee it on an open fire. By good rights it ought to have pieces of hickory nut in it, but it won't taste bad without."

"I'd call that fire fierce for ordinary toffee," commented Lennie Chapman.

"I'm sure I smell something," sniffed Dilys Fenton.

"Oh, it's burning!"

"Gipsy! Stir it!"

"It's boiling over!"

"Take it off, quick!"

Half a dozen eager hands s.n.a.t.c.hed at the pan, but it was too late; the sugary compound rose like a volcano and overflowed into the fire. A wail of lament came from the disappointed girls.

"I knew it would!" protested Lennie.

"Oh, it's made an awful smell! Open the window, somebody!" shrieked Gipsy. "If we don't mind, Poppie'll nose it out, and come poking up.

Oh! Good gracious!"

Gipsy might well exclaim, for there, just behind them, stood Miss Poppleton herself. She had been walking along the pa.s.sage, and attracted by the smell of burning, she had opened the door quietly to ascertain the cause. There was a moment of awful silence. Eleven sinners felt themselves most horribly caught.

"Who brought these things here?" demanded Miss Poppleton, eyeing the tray and its paraphernalia.

"I did. I got them from the kitchen," answered Gipsy. "We always made Fudge in the schoolroom in Dorcas City," she added, with a spice of defiance in her voice.

"You won't here!" returned Miss Poppleton grimly. "Take those things back to the kitchen at once. You will stay in from hockey to-morrow, and learn a page of French poetry. Each of you others" (glaring at the crestfallen circle) "will copy fifty lines of _Paradise Lost_, and bring them to me before Thursday. If you can't be trusted, I shall have to send one of the Seniors to sit with you in the evenings."

With this awful threat she departed, having first seen the exit of Gipsy with the tray.

"I knew Gipsy was bound to get into a sc.r.a.pe sooner or later," groaned Dilys.

"And we're in too, worse luck!" wailed Daisy Scatcherd. "Fifty lines is no joke!"

"It's ironical of her to choose _Paradise Lost_ when the Fudge had just boiled over!" said Hetty. "She doesn't like Gipsy, it's easy enough to see that."

"Here's Gipsy back. Well, my child, what do you think of your 'first bite', as you call it? Poppie didn't see your privileges! You'll have the pleasure of learning a whole page of French poetry to improve your mind, instead of playing hockey to-morrow!"

"I don't care!" said Gipsy, with an obstinate set to her mouth. "She may give me anything she likes, to learn. When folks are nice to me, I'll keep any number of rules; but when they begin to bully me, I just feel inclined to go and do something outrageous. I'm afraid there's not much love lost between Poppie and me."

CHAPTER VII

Gipsy takes her Fling

WHEN the novelty of her introduction to Briarcroft had somewhat faded, and the excitement of the Lower School mutiny had subsided, Gipsy began to find the life more than a trifle dull. She had an adventurous temperament, and her roving life had given her a taste for constant change and variety, so the prim regime of the English boarding school seemed to her monotonous in the extreme. She chafed against the confinement and the regularity of the well-ordered arrangements.

"I feel as if I were shut up in a box!" she declared. "How can you all go on every day so contentedly with this 'prunes and prism' business?

When I was at school up-country in Australia the mistress used to notice when we got restless, and take us for a day's camp into the bush. The day girls would bring horses for us boarders to use (everybody rides out there), and off we'd go, each with our picnic basket on our saddle, and have the very jolliest good time you could imagine. It worked off our spirits, and we'd come back to lessons as fresh as daisies and as meek as lambs."

"You get hockey here," objected Dilys, who generally stood up for Briarcroft inst.i.tutions.

"Not enough of it," sighed Gipsy. "I like hockey, but it's nothing to a day's riding."

"Did your headmistress ride too?" enquired Lennie.

"Rather! Miss Yorke was Colonial born, and could have sat a kangaroo, I should think! She was a different article from Poppie, I a.s.sure you."

"Can't imagine Poppie controlling a fiery steed," giggled the girls.

"I should like to see you on horseback, Gipsy," said Hetty.

"I'd be only too glad to accommodate you, my dear, if you'd provide the gee-gee. I can tell you I'm just yearning for a canter."

"Nothing but a clothes horse here," remarked Dilys facetiously.

"Or the colt in the meadow beyond the hockey field," said Lennie.

"The colt! Of course I'd forgotten the colt!" exclaimed Gipsy rapturously.

"You'd never sit that wild thing! You'd have to ride him bareback. Even your wonderful cleverness can't do everything, I suppose!" said Gladys sarcastically.

"I can ride bareback," returned Gipsy. "It's nearly as easy as with a saddle."

"I'd like to see you catch him first."

"That's perfectly possible--he wears a halter. Do you dare me to do it?

How many chocolates will you give me if I do?"

"A dozen, and a whole boxful if you ride him round the field."