Before the account was quite finished, Gypsy called Tom from the tent-door, and he went to her.
She was quiet, and very pale, "Oh, Tom, I am so sorry! I didn't think I should be gone so long." "It was very dangerous, Gypsy.

You might have been lost, or you might have had to spend the night here alone, while we were hunting for you." "I know it, I know it; and Sarah was so frightened, and I was too, a little, and Sarah thought you were a bear." "I have told you a great many times that it is _never_ safe for you to touch my gun," said Tom, gravely.

He felt that Gypsy's carelessness might have brought about too terrible consequences, both to herself and to him, to be passed by lightly; and he had an idea that, as long as her mother was not there to tell her so, he must.
But Gypsy dropped her head, and looked so humble and wretched, that he had not the heart to say any more.
Gypsy was sure all the pleasure of her camping-out was utterly spoiled; but there was a bright sun the next morning, and Tom was so kind and pleasant, and the birds were singing, and the world didn't look at all as if she had nearly killed her brother twelve hours before, so she found she was laughing in spite of herself, and two very happy days passed after that.

Mr.Hallam made a rule that he or Tom should keep the girls constantly in sight, and that, during the time spent in excursions which they could not join, they should remain in Mr.Fisher's house.

He said it was too wild a place for them to be alone in for any length of time, and he was sorry he left them before.
Gypsy did not resent this strict tutelage.